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Library Association* 

Shel f f^ - ~fi" 

Book Q^^^-^S 

Volume "a^.O, 




Accession No. -fe* *^^^ 



A New Hampshire Magazine 







The Granite Monthly. 


y^u/y — December, igoj. 

Abbott, Frances M., The New Hampshire Memorial Hospital for Women and 

Children ....... 

Above the Frost {poe/n), C. C. Lord, 

AcwoRTH. The Return to New Hampshire Hill Towns, Mabel Wood John 

son ........ 

Adam and Eve — and Eden, Mrs. VV. V. Tompkins . 

Aftermath {poe;/i), Alice D. O. Greenwood 

Again {poetn), C. C. Lord ...... 

Alden, John, The New Hampshire Exchange Club and 
Apostle, The. George William Gray .... 

Autumn Revelations {poem), Louise Levvin Matthews 

Baketel, Mrs. O. S., The Evenin(; Light {poem) 

Zechariah 14:7 {poejii) ..... 

Beede, Eva J., The Rivals ..... 

Belknap County Officers, Some, E. P. Thompson . 

Bennette, George Roby, Governor's Island, Lake Went 

Blanchard, C. F., Stumpy Pond ..... 

Baer, Annie Wentworlh, A London Doll . 

Boynton, Dr. C. E., Wanderings {poem) . 

Brown, Gilbert Patten, The Physician General of Two 

Browne, Nellie M.. Old Home Day Greeting {poem) 

Buffum, Jesse H., General Wood and His Birthplace 
When the Leaves are Falling {poem) 

Burge, C. F., Unpublished Marriages in Hollis 

Camp, Lydia Frances, A Retrospect {poem) 
Carr, Laura Garland, Catamount {poe/n) 

The Tree and the Brook {poem) 
Carter, N. F., The Home-Day Summons {poem) 
Catamount {poem), Laura Garland Carr 
Chapin, Bela, Riverbow {poem) .... 

A Lyric of the Farm {poem) . . .  . 

Cheney, G. A., Albert W. Martin .... 

Samuel Leland Powers ..... 
Chesley, Charles Henry, Song of the Meadows {poem) 
Child and the Sermon, The, Annie M. Edgerly 
Claflin, Sumner F., The Vandal's Hand (poem) 
Clark, A. Chester, Hon. John McLane 
Closed Gentian, The {poem), Helen Philbrook Patten 
Closing Year, The {poem), Louise Lewin Matthews . 
Cochrane, Clark B., The Hour of Dreams {poem) . 
Cochrane, Julian M., The Boiling Lake of Dominica 



Ts Boston Home 




























Colby, Fred Myron, Mv Old Nkw Hampshire Homk (poem) 
Poem ......... 

My Graxdmother's (jaroicx {poe;/i) . 
Perfection {poem') ...... 

Cupid's Summer Outing (poc/u), Isabel Ambler Gilman 

Currier, Marv M., Mrs. Robert Holton . 

Dearborn, Gen. Henry, M. U. The Physician General of Two War 
bert Patten Brown . . . . . . . 

December (poem), C. Jennie Swaine ..... 

Dominica, The Boiling Lake of, Julian M. Coclirane' 
Drake, Miriam E., Evening Transition .... 

Ebenezer Hogg vs. John Paul Jones, Otis G. Hammond 
Edtjerly, Annie M., The Child and the Sermon 
Elkins, VV. P., The Ghost of Fanard Hill 
Evans, Col. Stephen, John Scales, A. M. .... 
Evening Light, The {poem). Mrs. O. S. Baketel 
Evening Transition, Miriam E. Drake .... 

Family Care for the Chronic Insane, F. B. Sanborn 
Flint, William Ruthven, The Loom of Eternity 

Sonnet to the Evening Star {poem) 
Forrest, Kate, The Tilton and Northfield Woman's Club 

Ghost of Fanard Hill, The, W. P. Elkins 

Gilman, Isabel Ambler, Cupid's Summer Outing {poem) 

God's Cou.ntry {poem), Moses Gage Shirley 

Golden, Phoebe Harriman, The Song of the Pines {poem) 

Goldenrod and Harebell {poem), J. M. B. Wright 

Governor's Island, Lake Wentworth, George Roby Bennette 

Gray, George William, The Apostle . 

Greenwood, Alice D. O., Aftermath [poetn] 

Griffith, George Bancroft, June [poem) 

Lesson from the Flowers [poem) 

My Father's Old Well {poem) 

MiGNON {poem) ..... 

Hall, Arthur W.. A New Hampshire Sunset {poem) 

Hammond, Otis G., Ebenezer Hogg vs. John Paul Jones 

HoLLis, Some Unpublished Marriages in, C. F. 

Home-Day Summons, The {poem), N. F. Carter 

Hopkinto.n's Great Epidemic — The Throat Distemper, C. C. Lord 

Hour of Dreams, The {poem), Clark B. Cochrane 

Hoyt, Samuel, A Memory {poem) 

Hutt, Frank Walcott, Song of Home Week {poem) 


In Golden Sum.mer Days {poem), C. C. Lord . . . 

Johnson, Mabel Wood, The Return to New Hampshire Hill Tow 
June {poem), George Bancroft Griffith ..... 


, Gil- 

Kent, Henry, Man's Presumption {poem) . 

Leslie, H. G., M. D., Shoreline Sketches 
A Rainy Day .... 
"Once Upon a Time" 
Boating ..... 
The Outing of the Possum Club 


























48. 89, 161 . 198, 322 









Lesson from the Flowers (^poem), George 'Bancroft Griffith 

Linehan, John C, New Hampshire's Early Scotch Settlkrs from Ireland 

Lois Latham's Puritan Conscience, Semanthe C. Merrill 

Loom of Eternity, The, William Kuthven Fhnt 

London Doll, A, Annie Wentworth Baer . 

Lord, C. C, O Peaceful Haunts {poem) 

In Golden Summer Days [poem) 

Hopkinton's Great Epidemic — The Throat Distemper 

Again {poem) .  . 

Above the Frost (poem) .... 

Thanksgiving [poem) ..... 

Till Spring Has Come {poem) . 
Loveland, I. A., Rev. Samuel C. Loveland' 
Loveland, Rev. Samuel C, I. A. Loveland 
Love's Wine {poem), Minnie L Randall 
Lyric of the Farm, A {poem), Bela Chapin 

Man's Presumption (poem), Henry Kent . 

Martin, Albert W., G. A. Cheney . 

Matthews, Louise Lewin, Twilight Dreams {poem) 

Autumn Revelations .... 

The Closing Year ( poem) 
McLane, Hon. John, A. Chester Clark 
Meloon, Frank Herbert, The Pantheist {poem) 

The Tory's Cave {poem) .... 
Memory, A {poem), Samuel Hoyt 
Men in the Cab, The {poem), Mrs. Sarah L. Nute 
Merrill, Semanthe C, Lois Latham's Puritan Conscience 
Message from the Unknown, A., Bennett B. Perkins 
MiGNON {poem), George Bancroft Griffith . . . 

Millen, Charles W., My Boyhood Home {poem) 
Mrs. Robert Holton, Mary M. Currier 

Musgrove, Eugene R., Whittier, the Poet of the White Hills 
My Boyhood Home \poem), Charles W. Millen 
My Father's Old Well {poem), George Bancroft Griffith 
My Grandmother's Garden {poem), Fred Myron Colby 
My Old New Hampshire Home {poem), Fred Myron Colby 
My Strange Adventure in India, Arthur F. Sumner, M. D. 

New Hampshire College and its Faculty, The, Lucien Thompson 
New Hampshire Covenant of 1774, The, Joseph B. Walker . 
New Hampshire Exchange Club and its Boston Home, The, John Alden 
New Hampshire Memorial Hospital for Women and Children, The, France 
M. Abbott 

New Hampshire Necrology 

Batchelder, Hon. Alfred T. 
Bellows, Edward 
Booth, Hon. Andrew G. . 
Boynton, Charles H., M. D. 
Brown, D. Arthur 
Chapman, Rev. Jacob 
Cook, Gardner . 
Cook, Rufus 

Dow, Col. Winthrop N. . 
Emerson, William A. 
Farrington, Jeremiah A. . 
Goss, Ossian W , M. D. 
HiBBARD, Hon. Ellery A. 
Hildreth, Charles F., M. D. 
HoDGDON, Caleb W. . 
Humphrey, John 


53, 106, 169, 228, 286, 343 

































New Hampshire Necrology (Contimied) 

Jewett, John G. 

Kenkick, Hon. Charles C. 

KiMHALL, Morris E. . 

Lang, Capt. Joseph W. 

Merrill, Isaac D. 

Moore, Hon. Charles W. . 

NoTT, Albert, M. D. 

Odei.l, Herman J. 

Parker, Rev. Leonard S., D. D. 

Parsons, Col. Thomas A. 

Pettengill, Hon. John W. 

Rand, Rev. Edward A. 

RowELL, Amos F. 

Sanborn, Hon. E. B. S. 

Sanborn, Hon. John W. . 

Sturoc, William G. . 

SwETT, Major Stephen R. 

Todd, William C. 

TowLE, J. Warren 

Webber, Brooks K. . 

Weeks, George W. . 

Whiting, Harvey A. . 

Whittemore, Hon. Jacob B. 
New Hampshire's Early Scotch Settlers from Ireland, John C 
New Hampshire Sunset, A {poem), Arthur W. Hall 
Nute, Mrs. Sarali L., The Men in the Cab {poem) 

Old Home Day Greeting {poem), Nellie M. Browne 

One of New Hampshire's Abandoned Farms, Minnie L. Randall 

O Peaceful Haunts {poem), C. C. Lord . 

Pantheist, The {poem), Frank Herbert Meloon 
Parker, George Warren, Reason's Reply' [poem) 
Patten, Helen Philbrook, The Closed Gentian {poem) 
Perfection {poe>n), Frederick Myron Colby- 
Perkins, Bennett B., A Message from the L'nknown 
Plea for the Insane, A, Alice R. Rich 
Poem. Fred .Myron Colby ...... 

Powers, Samuel Leland, G. A. Cheney 
Prescott, Georgiana A., The Water Lily {poem) 

Randall, Minnie L., One of New Hampshire's Abandoned Farms 

Love's Wine {poem) .... 
Reason's Reply [poem), George Warren Parker 
Retrospect, A {poem), Lydia Frances Camp 
Rich, Alice R., A Plea for the Insane . 
Rivals, The, Eva J. Beede 
KwKRBOW {poem), Bela Chapin . 

Sanborn, F. B., Family Care for the Chronic 
Scales, John, A. M., COL. Stephen Evai<s 
Shirley, Moses Gage, The Uncanoonucs {poem) 

Uncle Rube on the Picture Craze [poem 

God's Country {poem) 
Shoreline Sketches, H. G. Leslie, M. D. 

A Rainy Day 

"Once Upon a Time" 

Boating .... 

The Outing of the Possum Cll 



48, 89, 16 


I, I 




Song of Home Week {poe/n), Frank Walcolt Hutt 
Song of the Meadows {poein), Charles Henry Chesley 
Song of the Pines, The [poe/n), Phoebe Harriman Golden 
Sonnet to the Evening Star [poem), William Ruthven Flint . 
Stumpy Pond {poe?n), C. F. Blanchard . . . . 

Sumner, Arthur F., M. D., My Strange Adventure ix India . 
Swaine, C. Jennie, December {poc/n) ...... 

Thanksgiving (poem), C. C. Lord ...... 

Thompson, E. P., Some Belknap County Officers . 

Thompson, Lucien, The New Hampshire Colte(;e and its Faculty 

Till Spring Has Come {poem), C. C. Lord .... 

Tilton and Northfield Woman's Club, The, Kate Forrest 
Tompkins, Mrs. W. V., Adam and Eve — and Edex . 

Tory's Cave, The (poem), F. H. Meloon, Jr 

Tree and the Brook, The (poem), Laura Garland Carr . 
Twilight Dreams (poem), Louise Lewin Matthews 

Uncanoonucs, The (poem), Moses Gage Shirley 

Uncle Rube ox the Picture Craze {poem), Moses Gage Shirley 

Vandal's Hand, The (poem), Sumner F. Claflin 

Walker, Joseph B., The New Hampshire Covenant of 1774 

Wanderings (poetn). Dr. C. E. Boynton . . . 

Water Lily, The (poem), Georgiana A. Prescott 

When the Leaves are Falling (poem), Jesse H. Buffum 

Whittier, the Poet of the White Hills, Eugene R. Musgrove 

Wood, General, and His Birthplace, Jesse H. Buffum . 

Wright, J. M. B., Goldexrod axd Harebell (poem) 


















Zechariah 14:7 (poem), Mrs. O. S. Baketel 


J yt-^^ — 

The Granite Monthly. 

Vol. XXXV 

JULY, 1903 



Bij Eugene R. Musgrove. 

TIE poet AVliittier was dis- 
tinctively American. His 
patriotic, democratic, and 
liumane spirit had a liold 
upon the people. He was 
not so cultured as Longfellow, but he 
was far more sympathetic. If his 
poems are rugged and unfinished, they 
are like the fields he ploughed and 
mowed in his boyhood — unattractive to 
one who surveyed them from afar, but 
yielding wholesome odors of upturned 
earth and clover, and affording, around 
the boulders that strewed them, grace- 
ful ferns and rare wild flowers. How- 
ever imperfect his poems may be, they 
reach the hearts of his countrymen. 
^Yhile his leading characteristics are 
boldness and energy, his works are not 
without passages equally significant for 
grace and tenderness. He will, in fact, 
be longest remembered for his de- 
scriptions of natural scenery, which 
touch the heart with their splendid 

Whittier was preeminently the poet 
of the White Hills. Longfellow and 
Lucy Larcom wrote occasional poems 
about this beautiful region; Starr 
King and Frank Bolles proclaimed its 
glories in prose. Hawthorne, who 
died in the very shadows of the niouu- 

story and 

tains, wrote 


moral about " The Great Stone Face " 
in his " Twice-Told Tales." Whittier, 
however, is the only poet who has given 
us continual pictures of this mountain 
land; he, alone, has enriched American 
verse with exquisite portraiture of New 
Hampshire scenery. 

Whittier's admiration for nature 
dated from boyhood. Poverty obliged 
him, at an early age, to labor on his 
fathers farm. His hours of schooling 
were, liy this means, greatly dimin- 
islied. but all possible loss was more 
than counterbalanced by lessons from 
Xature herself. A short way from his 
birthplace rises Pow-wow hill, so often 
praised in his verse. Thence he often 
went to view the landscape. He saw 

" Agamenticus lifting its blue 

Disk of a cloud the woodland o'er," 
and he discerned, in the distance, 

" the mountains piled 
Heavily against the horizon of the 

LUvC summer thunder-clouds," 

— the Ossipee and Sandwich ranges. 
He gazed also on the Merrimack, that 
"• rolled down his flood " from the 
mountains. Small wonder that his 
early resolve to know more about that 
1)eautifnl north-land should some day 
be realized. Things seen by child- 


hood's Avonder-lifted eyes are never iiortli a ^roat " mountain wall is piled 


" The hills are dearest which our child- 
ish feet 

Have climhed the earliest; and the 
streams most sweet 

Are ever those at which our young 
lips drank, 

Stooped to their Avaters o'er the grassy 

We see, therefore, that Whittier ac- 

to heaven." There 

" Chocorua silent stands, 

Forever gazing out across the lauds 

Where ouce the Indian chieftain roved 

Who gave it name, and its stern wild- 

ness loved." 

The Bearcamp river is a typical 
mountain stream. In dry weather it 
glides softly over its sinuous course 
among sandy shallows; in times of 

quired his love for tlic White Hills in heavy rain it swells until it overflows 
youth. He saw tliem in the distance — the adjacent meadows with the great 
he must liiow them. Accordingly we volume of water poured into it hy its 
find him, in the strength of his man- torrential trilnitaries. Whittier called 
hood, among these everlasting moun- the stream a " waif from Carroll's wild- 
tains. Many a time he journeyed up est hills."' Tlie poet loved the Bear- 
the sun-kissed valley of his dear Mer- camp valley, so cliarmingly emhosomed 
rimack, the 

" child of that white-crested 
mountain whose springs 
Gush forth in tlie shade of the cliff- 
eagle's wings." 

He journeyed up tiie Saco valley, 
through the " dwarf spruce-helts of the 
Crystal Hills,"" and drank in the won- 
ders of the world from the summit of 
Washington. He saw 

" The sunset, with its Lars of purple 

Like a new heaven, shine upward from 

the lake 
Of Winnipiseogee." 

The Bearcamp valley, however, was 
Whittier's favorite retreat among the 
White Hills — and is there a more 
heautiful spot in this enchanted re- 
gion? On tlie soutli 

Green-belted with eternal })ines. 
The mountains stretch away," 

-his beloved Ossipees; and on the 

Bearcamp Water. 

among the mountains. Surely it was 
to him a valley " lovelier than those 
the old poets dreamed of." 

One of W]iittier"s favorite occupa- 
tions, when in this northern valley, 
was to behold the White Hills from 
that outlying sunnnit of the Ossipee 


Peak of Chocorua. 

range wliicli now l)ears his name. The 
prospect was wonderfully alluring. 

"There towered Clioeorna''s peak: and 

Moosehilloek's woods were seen, 
With many a nameless slide-scarred 

And pine-dark gorge hetween. 
Beyond them, like a snn-rimmed clond. 

The great Notch mountains shone. 
Watched over by the solemn-! )rowed 

And awful face of stone."' 

On the noble summits of the Sand- 
wich range Whittier's eye dwelt with 
delight. Chocorua, that " grim cita- 
del of nature," was the poet's favor- 
ite mountain. Do we wonder that he 
loved Chocorua? Chocorua is all that 
a New Hampshire mountain should be: 

it bears the name of an Indian chief; 
it is the only mountain whose peak is 
crowned Avith a legend: the very 
rhythm of its name suggests the wild- 
ness and loneliness of the great hills. 

Whittier's writings concerning the 
scenery of the White ^Mountains were 
the inevitable result of his mountain 
life. As the fruit of a tree is condi- 
tioned by its surroundings and soil, so 
the fruits of the mind are influenced by 
the time and circumstances of their 
growth. The best poetry of the world 
in which natural scenery is reflected is 
not usually found in separate lyrics or 
descriptions, but is incidental to poems 
of larger mould and purpose. Hence 
we tind that AVhittier utilized Indian 
traditions as frameworks for sketches 
of New Hampshire scenery. Yet while 


The Old Man of the Mountain. 

the best descriptions of scenery are in- 
cidental to long poems, there is at least 
one happy exception in Whittier's 
verse. " Sunset on the Bearcanip " is 
an exquisite description of White 
Mountain scenery. 

" Touched by a light that hath no 

A glory never sung, 
Aloft on sky and mountain wall 

Are God's great pictures hung. 

How changed the summits vast and 

Xo longer granite-browed. 
They melt in rosy mist; the rock 

Is softer than the cloud; 
The valley holds its breath, no leaf 

Of all its elms is twirled; 
The silence of eternity 

Is falling on the world." 

Nothing to Whittier 

" had a deeper meaning 
Than the great presence of the awful 

Glorified liy the sunset.'' 

Have you ever seen Chocorua at sun- 
set? As the sun glides down the west, 
a ruddy glow tinges its pinnacle; and 
the shadows that liave been lurking in 
the ravines steal darkly up the moun- 
tain and crouch for a final spring upon 
its summit. Little by little, twilight 
flows over the valley, and a thin haze 
rises from its surface. Do we wonder 
that AVhittier, in the face of such an 
incomparable scene, recalled those 
sublime and touching incidents of 
Scripture — the Temptation, the Ser- 
mon on the Mount, the Transfigura- 
tion? — do we wonder that there stole 

Echo Lake and the Notcn. 


.^. \^.^', 


Looking acrObS tne Intervale to Moat Mountain and the Ledges, from intervale Park. 

into lii^; iiR'iiiorv those words so simple 
and tender and yet so expressive — " He 
went up into a monntain to pray?'' 

One tlionght, therefore, remains for 
ns to emphasize — the influence of the 
"White Hills upon AYhittier's character. 
AVlien the poet was once riding in an 
old stage-coach through the Bearcamp 
region, one of those mountain sunsets 
w^hich he has so beautifully described 
greeted his sight. He asked the coach- 
man to stop for a moment, so that he 
could study the picture; but the coach- 
man refused, saying coldly: " Oh, 
that's only one o' them red 'n' veller 

sunsets, we 

have "em ev'ry night.'"' 

Ah, that is the difficulty. The ma- 
jority of peojjle rush so fast through 
the mountains that they derive no 
benefit from them. AVhittier under- 
stood not only topograph}^ but also 
scenery. He went to the mountains, 
but that was not all; he paused, and 
the mountains came to him. As he 
himself said of another, 

" On all his sad or restless moods 
The perfect peace of IsTature stole; 
The quiet of her fields and woods 
Sank deep into his soul." 

Mt Washington, from the Intervale. 



Whittier's eve was anointed. He 
loved nature as the apparition of his 
God. Whatever he saw " respired with 
inward meaning." Man's ahility to 
appreciate nature depends not on 
physical sxijlxt Init on spiritual iu><i(jlit. 
AVhittier lived among the mountains 
with an insight that penetrated their 
purposes and service. He poured out 
his heart to Xature. and Mature did 
not hetray liis confidence. He studied 
the mountains, and tlie mountains 
filled his soul with lofty thoughts and 
.\\o\y impulses. The tender affection 
of his poetry reaches the pulsating 
heart of humanity. He stood one day 
beside an Indian's grave on the shore 
of Lake AViunipiseogee. There he 
wrote — 

" well may Mature keep 
Ec[ual faith with all who sleep.'" 

Is it not natural, he thought to him- 
self, that the dusky savage should have 
seen, in the entrancing beauty of those 
island-strewn waters, the " Smile of the 
Great Spirit?" Then his great heart 
went out to the Indian, his " common 
brother," and he breathed a prayer — - 

" Thanks, oh, our Father that like him. 

Thy tender love I see 
In radiant hill and woodland dim. 

And tinted sunset sea." 

Throughout AYhittier's long life we 
see this same spirit of trust and faith 
in a "■ loving superintendence of the 
universe." In old age, when his 

'' mirror of the beautiful and true, 
In Man and Nature, was as yet un- 

he made his last visit to the White 
Hills. He looked for the last time on 
the sacred scenes of the Bearcamp val- 
lev. AVith wauine,' strength he lour- 
neyed to his heloved Ghocorua lake, 
across whose dimpled surface floats a 
gracefid Indian legend. There, as 
" Cdiocorua's horn of shadow pierced 
the water," AVhittier reflected his own 
beautiful character in a farewell 
stanza. — 

" Lake of the Xorthland, keep thy 

Of beauty still, and while above 
The solemn mountains speak of power, 

Be thou the mirror of God's love." 


By Moses Gage SJiirlri/. 
Paet I. 

Our mountains! here to-day they staiul. 

As in the olden time. 
Meet subjects for the artist's brush 

And jioet's deathless rhyme. 

They stand, as when the red man's eyes 

Upon them first did rest. 
And likened them, so runs the name, 

L'nto his sweetheart's breast. 

They stand and greet the rising sun. 
Which glows upon each height. 

And the last parting beams of day, 
As. o'er them falls the night. 


They lift llieii' rorclicads to tlu' stonii;, 

And to the tt'iii|)c'st"s wi'nlh. 
Wlien sweeps the wliirlinii- hurricane 

\\"\{]\ I'uiii in it> patli. 

They lilt their peaks unto the stars, 
And to tlie moonbeams pale, 

When pass the rifted clouds aside 
.\nd calmer winds prevail. 

;Sometinies the mist and fog comes down 
And hides them from our view 

Sometimes the sky ahove is gray. 
And then it tnrns to hlne. 


The forest giants stand serene 

And hold their regal swa}'. 
As when amid the woodland depths 

The wild heasts songht their prey. 

Paet II. 

'Twas here the brave Joe English came. 

In days long gone before. 
And "mong the hardy pioneers 

The Scotchman Dinsermore. 

And Eanger Dodge, whose name is linked 

With many a harmless jest: 
One choose his home upon the south. 

One bitilded on the west. 

Both mustered with the minute-men 

And both came back again, 
And added to their country's worth 

xAnd to their townships fame. 

Of Betty Spear we oft have heard, 
And her famed spinning wheel, 

AYho used to spin until the shades 
Of night would o'er her steal. 

And good " Squire " Gage, who used to rule 

Supreme o"er his estate, 
And often when his neighbors warred 

AVas called to meditate. 

And hlusliing l)rides and stately grooms 
His mountain dwelling sought, 

I'or him to make them one for life 
And tie tlie bridal knot. 


Here have the Shirley's long been known, 
Who settled Shirley Hill, 

And on their homesteads yet we find 
Descendants living still. 

Here dwelt the Gilehrists and McDales, 
And Ferrens, too, we note, 

AA^hose names should all be handed down 
In song and anecdote. 

And old Annt Lydia Dinsermore, 
Who was both quaint and good, 

AVliose record is to us as sweet 
As balm and southern-wood. 

Here Doctor Ferson used to stay. 

Through mists of memory 
We seem to hear him fiddling on 

To jovial company. 

And here lived Samuel Orr, who thought 
The mountains filled with gold. 

And richer than the fabled wealth 
Golconda held of old. 

But yet, who knows he might have seen. 
While speaking friend with friend, 

The imdiscovered gold that lies 
At every journey's end. 

And looking at it in this light 

It has a meaning new. 
And we believe, for one, and say 

His mountain dream is true. 

Paet III. 

Here have we found in svlvan glades 
The fair arbutus flowers, 

AA'hose perfume is like incense rare. 
Drenched with the April showers. 

Here have we heard the horni'd owl 
And sweet voiced veery sing, 

And the long roll-call to his mate 
The partridge drums in spring. 

Here have we heard among the hills 
The distant thunders boom. 

And saw the lightning lances play 
Alternate in the gloom. 


Here luive we heard the sly fox's hark, 

The cattle's ti]iklin,2: hell; 
When all was quietness and peace 

Within tlie slundioring dell. 

Here have we heard the laughing rill — 

Was ever sound more sweet 
To those who once were country hred 

And sought some city street? 

Were ever sunsets quite so red, 

Or hlushed so pink the dawn? 
We ask to those who once were reared 

And from the hills have gone. 

Part iv. 

^Mountains of vistas from whose tops 

Are fair horizons spread. 
And many a pleasant vale and slope 

With neighhoring hills are wed. 

And, mingling with the outward scene, 

Full many a pond and lake 
And lordly river flows between, 

A cliarniing view to make. 

]\rountains on mountain tops are piled 

Where'er we chance to look, 
Here is a fairyland indeed 

Within no story hook. 

And outward still, and onward still, 

Far as the eye can sw^eep, 
Upon the dim horizon's line 

There breaks the mighty deep. 

Mountains of fancy we have known 

And loved since boyhood's days. 
While journeying along life's road 

We bring them tardy praise. 

Mountains of memory we sing; 

Where'er our footsteps roam 
We think of thee, our thoughts are filled 

Again with dreams of home. 

Oh, friends beloved, afar or near, 

Who read these humble lines. 
Behold our mountains as of old 

Still crowned with oaks and pines. 


By Julian J/. Cochrane. 

[The cuts in this article are all copyrighted by B. L. Singley, Meadville, Pa., and St. Louis, Mo] 

»\V many readers of The locality, far within the native wilds of 
Granite Monthly ever Dominica, I take pleasure in giving the 
heard of the Boiling readers of The Granite Monthly an 
Lake of Dominica? Per- oif-hand account of this marvel of the 
ha])s with equal perti- tropics, 
nenco I might ask, J low many are ac- Since last Deceml)cr. when a young 
quainted with the history or location Englishman named Clive, a descend- 
of Dominica itself? — for it is some- ant of the great Lord Clive, was mys- 
tliing appalling to know liow ignorant teriously killed upon the spot l:)y poi- 
we Americans are, as a rule, ahout this sonous gases, Dominicans have had a 
great world of ours. I say ours, posi- deadly fear of this strange hody of 
tively unconscious of how fitting an water. Before, it was considered as 
application it may become, after all, if harmless as a tea-kettle. An inter- 
we continue to cherish as a nation that esting story concerning this Clive dis- 
absurdly maligned '' })olicy of expan- aster cannot he related here. I might 
sion.'"' Not presuming that we shall only add that intelligence of this affair 
ever wish to annex Dominica to our added largely to the novelty and in- 
glorious domain, already so great and terest of my experience — for who could 
so beautiful, I am quite willing to as- tell but what I, too, by some peculiar 
sert that if l\y any chance of fortune irony of fate, might not be led into the 
Dominica should become American same death-trap as my unsuspecting 
soil, Ave would have in this volcanic predecessor? 
reef, though it may be, one of the love- The trip had to be accomplished 

liest, most fascinating bits of land that 
ever lifted its green mantle above the 
crystal deep of any sea. Indeed, no 
one having seen Dominica will ever 
forget where it is, or the peculiar charm 
of its wild beauty, its high mountains, 
its deep gorges, its forests primeval. 

Although every island of the Indies 
has its own unique characteristics, 
none other has a feature more unique 
than the Boiling Lake of Dominica. It 
is said to be the only one of its kind in 
the world, and that it is deserving of 
greater fame no one will ever doul:)t 
after once l^eing forced to marvel at 
Nature's caprices from the brink of its 
seething caldron. 

Having recently explored this weird 

with ureat caution and at no little 

Roseau, Dominica, as it wouid Appeal fiom an Airship. 


peril; hut liaviii,u' hd'orc iiio a mental 
picture of tiic place, hiiiiily i.-olored to 
lie sure, thouo'h I luust say not in all 
respects erroneously, liy local enthus- 
iasts, and witli my intrepidity materi- 
ally whetted by recent adventures in 
]\fartini(iue and St. Vincent, how could 
I leave Dominica without visiting its 
wonderful Boiling Lake? Out of the 

All right, hoys. Be here early in the 
morning and we will start. Bright 
and early two half-breeds (really not 
bred at all), half-dressed young 

Architectural Medley of Roseau Town, Dominica. 

" wharf rats," colored, partly by Na- 
ture, largely by the dust of the town, 
the most promising I could find among 
the motley swarm on the jetty, called 
at my hotel. Giving each a share of 
my apparatus and stock of provisions 
we set out from Landau, the last in- 
habited region in the course of march, 
for an eight miles' almost continuous 
climb up the mountain. In a mon- 
grel dialect, and with accent and ges- 
ture that amused me very much, my 
eager companions began to enumerate, 
before we were well under wav, the 

Boiling Lake Region, Dominica. 

many and fearful hazards of the Boil- 
ing Lake region. The information 
they confided to me was fearfully sug- 
gestive. According to their theories, 
I was to have the very great pleasure 
of seeing the devil himself who, 
stretching forth a mighty arm from 
some steaming crevice, \\()uld pull me 
in. camera and all. Whether or not 
these rascals really Ijelieved this I 
would not venture to say, but at any 
rate I was given thoroughly to under- 
stand that they were going with me no 
farther than Landau. A remark chid- 
ing them for cowardice only elicited 
this very plausible argument, " Xo, 
l)Oss, don't yer see God has put dat aw- 
ful ting way up dere in de woods, and 
He don't suspect peoples to go dere?" 
AVe are now fifteen minutes from 
town, in the Iieart of Eoseau valley, the 
loveliest in all Dominica, one of the 
most famous lime-producing regions 
in the world. Golden limes lay in 
heaps, and scattered beneath trees, all 
along the way. At many of these piles 
we find a girl working — " rinning 
limes." What a curious occupation! 
We stop to " josh " her and ask foolish 



Roseau Valley. Largest Lime producing Region in World. 

questions. Five shillings is the recom- 
pense for one quart of lime-skin oil 
and many hours a day she sits here 
rolling one lime after another upon the 
lu'onged interior of a shallow copper 
howl with the reward, perhaps, of a 
paltry half jiint after two days of ted- 
ious lahor under a tropic sun. An- 
other important production of the 
island, growing almost in the roadway 
as we advance, is the cocoa, or choco- 
late hean. I know of none other 
among all tropic productions having 
manner of growth more curious than 
tliis cocoa. Accompanying views show 
the eccentric pods shooting out from 
the very trunks of the trees. 

Eising gradually by a zigzag path 
above the valley we see many striking 
and interesting olqects and beautiful 
perspectives. But cultivated areas are 
soon lost to sight, and we find our- 
selves in a narrow, winding trail, 
nearly choked in places by an uncon- 
cjuerable growth of shrubs. These, 
with the bamboos, the palms, the in- 
finite variety of ferns, the big trees — 
home of the orchid and myriad vines — 

make charming to me a pathway toil- 
some and unattractive for my com- 
panions with whom familiarity has 
l)red indifference. 

AVe come to a spring. Here gener- 
ous jSTature entices every passerby to 
iml)ibe of her sweetest, purest drink, 
and from a cup, unique, of her own 
shajDiug — the hollow joint of a bam- 
boo shoot — we drink a health to the 
Great Guardian of us all. After a 
brief rest the journey is resumed and 
at 11:30 the meager but agreeable hos- 
pitality of a mountain home is ex- 
tended to us for as long a period as we 
wish to remain and with an ojoenness 
and liberality that would make any 
wanderer think of home and native 
land. Our host, by the way, the third 
and only surviving member of the 
Glive expedition, and by repute the 
best woodsman in Dominica, is the man 
to whom I paid a fancy sum the fol- 
lowing dav to guide me through the 
trackless forest. Our hostess is his 
wife; our entertainers, etc., eight 
lime-colored children, the cadence of 
whose voices in the still nisfht air falls 


A Mountain Slope Home, Dominica. 



iipou the ear like mountain dew npon 
an orchid bloom! 

The night is jiast. What a delight- 
ful sleep in the cool mountain air! 
llow invigorating! A tonic, indeed! 
Nothing but a long tramp can repress 
the nimble animation within us. We 
are off for the lake. A trio party, 
consisting of myself, white, my guide, 
half white, and a black fellow — black 
as a volcanic cloud at midnight — 
crosses a road, then a provision field of 
yam, tanier, sweet potatoes, kush kush, 
then a small stream, and is suddenly 
environed by the bewitching shades of 
the forest. My guide, taking the lead, 
armed only with his macheter, cuts a 
way through the opposing thicket 
wherever it attempts to thwart our 
passage, with an alacrity that would do 
credit to a down east Yankee cutting 
a devouring swath through a pump- 
kin pie. 

High and beyond, Imt apparently 
not very remote, Morne Xicolls had 
been pointed out to me as the site from 
which we were first to view the Boiling 
Lake. It is the climb, the scramble, 
the wading to this prominence that 
comprises the better half of my story 
— at any rate experience which holds 
supreme distinction among pleasant 
memories of the day. We can see 
steam and boiling water, and smell 
sulphur in America, but nowhere 
there, not even in the choicest bits of 
Florida, can we find such tropic mag- 
nificence as has woven itself upon the 
rich lava soil of Dominica. Xever, 
never can I forget the pleasant, though 
laborious hours, spent in threading our 
way through the bewildering maze of 
this primeval woodland! 

After the first hour, in which labor 
is not much sweetened by reward, we 

find ourselves within the thickest of 
the Avoods. Leaping from rock to 
rock, we cross two beautiful streams. 
We drink Ibo crystal water from a 
huge banana leaf folded into a cup; 
we see strange flowers and strange 

Furious, Hissing Steam Jets, Boiling Lal<e Region. 

trees; we hear strange noises, the notes 
of .strange birds, even the song of bugs; 
we smell strange odors; we ask strange 
questions, as the guide remarks, and 
some so strange, indeed, that even he, 
a veritable child of the woods, is baf- 
fled to answer. 

A sulphurous odor now becomes po- 
tent enough to remind us of rotten 
eggs, — a rather obnoxious simile, to be 
sure, but really the best I have at hand 
to describe it, unless it be the fumes of 
a neoTo camp meetins; in Julv. If we 
are now more than five miles distant 
from its source, what must we expect 
in an hour, in two hours! (Strange to 
say, however, we encounter no percept- 
ible increase even in close proximity 
to the lake itself.) We pass through 
swampy places and sink deep into a 
black mire; we climb over and under 



fallen tree trunks; avc cross another 
river, and now, finding ourselves in the 
very heart of the forest, marvel most of 
all. The growth is actually so great, 
so high, so numerous, so exuberant, so 
entangled and entwined, one form witli 
another ahove and all about, that early 
morning and late afternoon seem al- 
ways to enshroud us in the gloom of 
half night. Near the ground none of 
the large trees ramify, but sometimes 
more than a lumdred feet above send 
out their huge arms which, interlock- 
ing with those of a neighboring tree, 
both being covered with orchids, in- 
numerable other parasites aud tlieir 
own foliage, form an almost impene- 
trable faliric through which the sun- 
light can scarcely find its way. What 
a vast variety of flowering slnndjs, of 
ferns, palms, lichens, orchids, and 
graceful vines have assembled in this 
wild region! How confusedly they 
associate one with another, and how in- 
formally one growtli embraces an- 
other vastly different — like affection, 
or verily like a fierce struggle for the 
survival of the fittest. 

A stiff climb, a few rapid strides 

" Rining Limes ' ' — Extracting oil from skin of the fruit. 

In Woodland Primeval. 

along a iiarrow ridge, brings us to the 
suunnit of ^lorne Nicolls. An ancient 
crater of tremendous depth and extent 
opens out before us, and the beginning 
of the end of our journey is realized. 
Xow conies the supreme test of nerve, 
of strength, of composure. What a 
different phase of Xature now greets 
us! From the silent and peaceful 
depths of the forest we have now come 
to the verge of a steaming, treacherous 
abyss. From two opposite sides of the 
crater, two miles apart yet within the 
selfsame basin, steaming coils rise ma- 
jestically into the lunivens and embark 
themselves in passing cloud-ships. 
The colunni more remote indicates the 
location of the Boiling Lake.; the other, 
rising from more than a thousand feet 
below us, is formed by the united per- 
colation of innumerable steam jets and 
diminutive Ijoiling lakes distributed 
about an irregular, barren area, per- 
haps a hundred yards in diameter. 
This most interesting natui'al wonder 
we shall traverse on our way to the 
Boiling Lake. 

The trip to the Boiling Lake from 
the summit of Morne McoDs, though 



seemingly (juite easy, viewed from this 
illusive viewpoint, is not to be recom- 
mended for an afternoon stroll in your 
best clothes — or with your "• best girl,'' 
who might, perhaps, insist upon being- 
carried over diifieult places. The first 
eight hundred feet almost vertically rivals at the gate, since he does not ap- 
down, through a dense growth of high, pear. The noise, however, is such as 
coarse grass where every succeeding might indicate to superstitious minds 

display imu-li alarm to see me linger- 
ing, spellbound, within range of that 
" mighty arm "" of his satanic majesty. 
The devil must be on another beat to- 
day or, perhaps, he is shoveling coal, 
or making the acquaiiitance of new ar- 

step is a venturesome speculation sub- 
ject to slumps in grass roots and mud, 
and finally down a sheer declivity of a 
crumbling, chalk-like formation, is 
trying and hazardous, but only a be- 
ginning of the long, laborious jaunt 

the presence of some evil spirit. To 
me it is not merely noise, l)ut music — 
the weird orchestral music, as it were, 
of a host of mystic unseen performers. 
The shrill flute-like soprano of escap- 
ing steam from tiny throats, the altos 

across the mighty chafsm before us. and all the deeper varying tones of 
Once safely to the first level, we find those larger in the ascending scale of 
ourselves upon a soft, fragile crust size, even to the roaring basso of one 
composed largely of sulphur, through large enough to be father of them all, 
which, in a thousand crevices, sizzling the warljling tenor of a brook, minors 
steam gives vent to the petulant fury, produced l)y gentle strokes of passing 
the constantly generating forces of a lireezes, and the rub-a-dub-dul) of two 
subterranean furnace. Strange to re- 
late, at a point not twenty feet above 
this heated sulphur surface, a little 
stream of water, cool, sweet and clear, 
comes bubbling from the clifE — a great 
boon to struggling climbers with 
parched throats. Here, while being 
highly entertained by those dancing, 
twisting, awe-inspiring columns of va- 
por, the provision basket is emptied 
and with renewed vitality we start out 
for the final heat, — and a heat it is, 

The odor of sulphur is almost 
stifling. To cross the little field of 
wonders below us each step must be 
tried before taken, else one may sink 
into a pot of Madame Xature's hot 
porridge. Here is the place, too, where 
the devil may be expected to appear, 
as I am now dutifully informed by my 
guides who scamper quickly around 
the sulphur mound and looking back, 

G. M. — 2 

A Scalding Flood, Boiling Lake Region. 

great caldrons of l)lack mud, sputter- 
ing and steaming like mush in the 
cooking — this is a crude analysis of the 
mingled sounds. What wonderful 
harmony! Music as ceaseless, as 
changeless, as awe-inspiring as the song 



of ocean waves echoed from a rock- 
bound coast. It is impressive to be so 
near so grand an expression of Xature. 
Expecting to witness a more thrill- 
ing spectacle farther on I join the 
guides now thoroughly impatient with 
my '' jokin" wid de de1)el." "We follow 
the downward course of a small stream, 
milky-hued and scalding hot. Cross- 
ing and recrossing this curious little 
wonder, many times with a single 
bound, sometimes missing a quite itu- 
desirable hot water l)ath by a mere 
hair's breadth, we come to the head of 
a small cascade. There is no way to 
j)ass it. Without a guide, and, indeed, 
without that indispensable companion, 
the cutlass, the onl}^ alternative would 
be to return. A move, however, on 
the part of my long-legged cutlass- 
bearer signifies, " Follow, boss," and 

The Eccentric Growth of Cocoa Pods. 

extrication from this deluding cul-de- 
sac is at once in progress. 

A precipitous hill with a slippery 
cloak of clammy mud, held intact and 
treacherously hidden by an almost im- 
passable growth of gigantic grass, high 
to our faces, is now to be scaled. It is, 

indeed, a most disheartening climb, 
and midday in the tropics is wiltingly 
hot! Shall we ever be able to look 
back upon the scene of our struggles 
and exult in victory? Oh, that story 
of the frog in the well! How appli- 
cable to our ridiculous situation — one 
step upward, two downward. At last 
by grappling great handfuls of the 
fibrous weed and pulling ourselves by 
main force, notch by notch, upward, 
the summit is attained. What a little 
victory, after all, and how laboriously 
won! "While resting here and cooling- 

Drying Cocoa in the Best Way — Under the Sun. 

off, the complete absence of trees re- 
minds us that only twenty years ago 
an eruption of this identical volcano 
destroyed a liig forest formerly cov- 
ering these slopes. A literal slide into 
a ravine, a few narrow escapes from 
deep, miry cavities hidden by grass, a 
tug up another obstructing knoll, and 
down again, brings us to the rushing 
torrent of another hot flood. The ob- 
ject of our toil is now al>out to be ac- 
complished. Our destination is near. 
Passing )iorthward around another 
upheaval, we come, true enough, to 



tliat mysterious body of water known 
as the Boiling Lake of Dominica. The 
mighty volume of steam arising from 
its terrific chullitions at first prohibits 
a distinel ol)scrvation, but suddenly a 
shifting of the wind sweeps it away 
and the whole surface becomes visible. 

The Boiling Lake, showing its Mighty Ebullitions. 

Ah! it is not so large as some have de- 
scribed it, but verily a wonder, never- 

Below, some twenty or thirty feet, 
within an almost circular basin, not 
more than thirty yards across, a dark, 
slate-colored body of water boils furi- 
ously at its center. The mean surface 
level varies every instant from six to 
eight inches. The central ebullition, 
with sputterings and a profound muf- 
fled roar, sends circiilar, foamy wave- 
lets scampering to the shore. From 
the whole seething surface, most cop- 
iously from its center, a tremendous 
volume of steam — enough to move all 
the machinery of the world, ascends 
gracefully into the heavens. The 
overflowing liquid, really too black, too 
murky, too copiously saturated with 
foreign matter to be called water, finds 

an outlet by the southern verge of the 
lake and goes tumbling, splashing, 
gradually cooling, over a stony course 
to the sea. On the opposite northeast 
side a precipitous wall rises to a height 
of fifteen hundred feet. This is the 
Boiling Lake. Such it was when I saw 
it on that lovely October day but who 
knows, who can tell, but what this very 
lake which manifests so much internal 
power, may some day become a ravag- 
ing monster like its near relatives in 
Martinique and St. Vincent? God 

The environment of these mvstic lo- 
calities is always fascinating, bewitch- 
ing to me, and the thought of leaving 
them is always unwelcome — more un- 
Avelcome than desire is strong to get 
near them. Yet, to tarry, or even to 
be in this locality has so recently been 
proven folly by the misfortune of an- 
other adventurer, that discretion ap- 
pears warningly to be the better part 
of valor. At any moment the unex- 
pected, the undesired event may come 
to pass. My guide, who, but a few 
short months before had escaped death 
by a mere trifle on this very spot, be- 
comes uneasy and insists upon starting 

The lake has really been explored; 
my plates are all exposed; no good rea- 
son for staying presents itself, so re- 
tracing our steps by the fading light of 
the afternoon, and arriving home just 
as the sun, in the glorious splendor of 
the day's farewell, was sinking into the 
Caribbean, my day's exploit is delight- 
fully terminated by a plate of yam, 
l)readfruit and plantain, two wild birds, 
a dish of raspberries, and a long sleeiT 
—a sleep from which I have since 
awakened to find myself ready for the 
next — anything that comes my way. 


By C. C. Lord. 

peaceful haunts of hill and vale! 

I seek thy wealth of secret things, 
And court each whisjDer on the gale, 

That to my ear some comfort brings, — 
Breathe, gentle air, with lore that teems, 
In the l)lank world there are no dreams! 

1 pause alone beneath the tre6s. 

As one who longs some art to find 
In musing — gift of light, and breeze. 

And shade — to cheer the famished mind,— 
Stir, all ye themes of fancy wrought. 
In the dull world there is no thought! 

Here are the glad retreats where sense 
Dissolves in soul, Avhile moments fleet 

Compete for sorrow's recompense. 

That craves some rhythmic accent meet, — 

Exult, sweet zest, in terms but choice. 

In the dumb world there is no voice! 

So prays the poet on his way. 

Through sunshine and through shadows fair, 
For inspiration of the day, 

The worth that soothes a heart's despair, — 
Eespond, love's chords, divine and strong, 
In the mad world there is no song! 


By Georgiana A. Prescott. 

An angel wandered away from Paradise, 
Strayed in star-lighted paths of infinite space. 
Saw with angel ken, earth and the human race. 
He paused in his flight, came hither in human guise. 
Earthly beauty with Heaven's loveliness vies 
The angel thought as he walked with saintly grace 
The shore of an enchanting lake — Heaven-like place- 
Fair with roseate hues of the sunset skies. 
His form lay mirrored in strange bea^^ty within. 
He dropped from his pale hand a sweet white flower 
Plucked in the Bright Land where there is no sin. 
'Twas a wonderful work of Divine Power. 
The waters embraced it with gentlest din. 
The angel fled just at the twilight hour. 


By F. B. Sanborn, of Concord, Mass. 

T is an old sa3'ing that 
" one lialf the worhl does 
not know how the other 
half live;'" it would be 
truer, pcrhaj^s, to say that 
not one person in a thousand knows 
the possibilities of human capacity in 
matters that concern our everyday life. 
What seemed a miracle or an impossi- 
bility until we have seen it done, soon 
becomes familiar and little noticed by 
us; but to the nine hundred and ninety- 
nine who have never even thought of 
its performance, it will still appear a 
miracle or an impossibility. The first 
signal instance of this truth which as 
a youth I saw was the restoration of 
Laura Bridgman, a deaf, dumb, and 
blind child of Xew Hampshire birth, 
to that companionship of her kind from 
which her complicated infirmity had 
excluded her beyond hope, as was 
thought in 1837. wlien her liberator 
appeared one July morning at her 
father's farmhouse door. It was Dr. 
Howe of Boston, who had already spent 
many years of his young life in liber- 
ating the oppressed and giving eyes to 
the blind. He persuaded lier mother 
to entrust Laura, then seven years old, 
to his care at the School for the Blind 
in South Boston; and five years later, 
when Charles Dickens saw her, the im- 
possible had been done, the miracle was 
accomplished. Let the great novelist 
describe what he saw in the spring of 

" I sat down before a girl, blind, deaf, and 
dumb, destitute of .smell and nearly so of taste; 
before a fair young creature with every human 
faculty and hope and power and goodness and 
affection enclosed within her delicate frame,— and 
hut one outward sense,— the sense of touch. 
There she was before me, built up, as it were, in 
a marble cell, impervious to any ray of light or 
particle of sound; with her poor white hand 
peeping through a chink in the wall, beckoning 
to some good man for help, that an immortal 
soul might be awakened. Long before I looked 
upon her the help had come. Her face was radi- 
ant with intelligence and pleasure. From the 
mournful ruin of such bereavement there had 
slowly risen up this gentle, tender, guileless, 
grateful-hearted being. I have extracted a few 
fragments of her history from an account written 
by that one man who has made her what she is. 
It is a very beautiful and touching narrative. 
The name of her great benefactor and friend is 
Dr. Howe. There are not many persons, I hope 
and believe, who, after reading these passages, 
can ever hear that name with indifference. Well 
maj' that gentleman call that a delightful moment 
in which some distant promise of her present 
state first dawned upon the darkened mind of 
Laura Bridgman. Throughout his life, the recol- 
lection of that moment will be to him a source of 
pure, unfading happiness." 

This miracle has now become so 
common that less attention is paid to 
the more remarkable case of Helen 
Keller, whom Dr. Howe's son-in-law, 
Michael Anagnos, taught after his 
father-in-law's death. But Laura at- 
tracted the notice of two continents, 
and her story was read in a dozen lan- 
guages. Well did Dr. Howe say of her, 
in 1847, five years after Dickens had 
seen her: 

" Laura's progress has been a curious and an 
interesting spectacle. She has come into human 
society with a sort of triumphal march; her 
course has been a perpetual ovation. Thousands 
have been watching her with eager eyes and ap- 
plauding each successful step; while she, all 
unconscious of their gaze, holding on to the 



slender thread, and feeling her way along, has 
advanced with faith and courage towards those 
who awaited her with trembling hope. Nothing 
shows more than her case the importance which, 
despite their useless waste of human life and hu- 
man capacity, men really attach to a human 
soul. Perhaps there are not more than three 
living women whose names are more widely 
known than hers; and there is not one who has 
excited so much sympathy and interest. Thou- 
sands of women are striving to attract the 
world's notice and gain its admiration,— some by 
the natural magic of beauty and grace, some by 
the high nobility of talent, some by the lower 
nobility of rank and title, some by the vulgar 
show of wealth. But none of them has done it so 
effectually as this poor, blind, deaf and dumb 
girl, by the silent show of her misfortunes and 
her successful efforts to surmount them." 

But it is not of Laura that I am 
writing to-day; her name but serves 
me for an example. To most persons 
who think of the insane as raving, mop- 
ing or murderous persons, and view 
them with ahirm or repulsion, the fam- 
ily care of an insane woman, with the 
liberty of tlie house and garden, the 
fields and woods, will probably seem, 
and has seemed, in ages past, and even 
in our own day, something impossible. 
The custom has been to seclude them 
in close asylums, amid scores of their 
own kind, — formerly they were 
chained, also, cast into damp dun- 
geons, ducked in cold ponds, flogged, 
and prayed over, to drive out the evil 
spirit with which they were thought 
, to be possessed. To give such crea- 
tures the free range of a household, 
the control of a kitchen, the manage- 
ment of a poultry-yard, has seemed to 
most of the unthinking public a pre- 
posterous or perilous thing. Yet for 
centuries this has been done in the lit- 
tle city of Gheel in Belgium, and its 
rural suburbs; for half a century it has 
been a useful custom in Scotland; and 
now it has been adopted in France, in 
Germany, Russia, and Holland, in some 
parts of England, and in Massachu- 
setts. To such an extent has this 

" familv care of the insane " gone 
in Europe that, last September, 
its friends and experts held in 
Antwerp, within easy reach of Gheel, 
an international congress or conven- 
tion, lasting a week, and giving birth 
to a volume of 01 pages, which has 
gone through the press in that pic- 
turesque Flemish city. Having been 
invited by the authorities of the con- 
gress to attend its sessions, and being 
unable so to do, I sent a report on the 
experiment of family care made in Xcav 
England nearly twenty years ago, and 
so successful, though on a small scale, 
that it is now being extended, and is 
firmly planted in the philanthropic 
soil of Massachusetts. My report, not 
before printed in America, follows: 

With Remarks on the Care of the American 
Insane Elsewhere. Written for the Inter- 
national Congress at Antwerp, September 
1 TO 7, 1902. 

By F. B. Sanborn, 

Formerly Lunacy Inspector of Massachusetts. 

The care of the insane in families is no new 
thing in the United States; indeed, it was the 
customary thing until the year 1820, although 
there were a few asylums for the violent and 
troublesome cases, in Pennsylvania, Virginia, 
and New England before that date; while manj' 
also were restrained in the very unsatisfactory 
prisons. But it would seem that two thirds of 
the insane, both acute and chronic, had their 
residence in the family where the malady first 
showed itself, or in some other household, better 
or worse adapted to their treatment. Those who 
resided, as many did from 1820 to 1900, in town 
and city almshouses, were often under strictly 
family care; the house being small, with few 
inmates of the public poor, and managed by a 
single couple (man and wife), who, by practice, 
became fairly well able to give the demented or 
even maniacal persons under their care as good 
treatment as at that period they would have 
received in the asylums for the insane, which 
were far from perfect. But there was much 
neglect, through ignorance, and some abuses, 
which, when investigated and made public by 
Miss Dorothea Dix and others, half a century 
ago, became a public scandal, and led to the 
establishment, in most of the states of the Ameri- 
can union, of hospitals or asylums for the medi- 
cal oversight and curative or restraining treat- 
ment of the majority of the insane. 

In this succession of events, the real merits of 



a well-roKuUucd ^<ysten^ of family care for the 
insane came to be greatly overlooked and disre- 
garded: the classification of patients being very 
imperfect, and an opinion prevailing that every 
individual lunatic, whatever his form of malady, 
was eciually a sul)ject for restraint an<l medical 
treatment with the actively maniacal, or melan- 
cholic, or paralytic insane. This opinion caused 
the early accounts of family care at Gheel and 
in Scotland to he received in America with much 
distrust of its lieneticial results; nor was it easy, 
from the casual inspection of the Gheel colony 
and the Cottage system of Scotland by medical 
men, strongly prejudiced in favor of their close 
asylums, to obtain an impartial account of what 
was going on in Europe in the direction of 
family care. Even so good an observer and so 
fair-minded a physician as the late Dr. Pliny 
Earle, who, first among Americans, visited and 
reported on the treatment of the insane in 
Europe, from the York, Retreat and the Paris 
Bicetre. to the Constantinople prison-asylum 
(which he inspected in December, 1838, in com- 
pany with Dr. Millingen, the jihysician of Lord 
Byron in his last illness)— even Dr. Earle, I say, 
was long prepossessed against the principle and 
results of Gheel.* 

But with the establishment in Massachusetts, in 
1863-'65, of an improved method of public charity, 
there came to the front in that little republic a 
man of genius. Dr. Howe, who had long made 
the condition of the poor in many countries a 
special study. Joining with Byron, Hastings, 
Finlay, and the Continental Philhellenes from 
1823 to 1830, in redeeming Greece from the bar- 
barism of the Turk, he found himself in charge of 
bands and colonies of refugees there, at Egina 
and the Isthmus of Corinth, whom he taught to 
labor, and to become self-supporting. Then, 
taking up the cause of the blind, he created for 
their education a model school and work-room 
and music conservatory in Boston, over which he 
presided for more than forty years. In course of 
these labors he became familiar with the condi- 
tion of the poor in all respects, and his compas- 
sion for the insane and idiotic members of poor 
families led him to consider the best means of 
providing for them, as well as for poor and 
vicious children, in whose nurture and reforma- 
tion he took a philanthropic interest. By the 
year 1865, therefore, when he became chairman 
of the Massachusetts Board of State Charities, 
of which I was the secretary, Dr Howe had 
come to have views concerning the treatment of 
the insane far in advance of those which his 
medical brethren held in America. Among other 
things he had made himself acquainted with the 
colony at Gheel, whose principle he defended 
against the prejudiced attacks of men who knew 
little of it but the name,— and with the Boarding- 
Out system of Scotland, which had already (in 
1864) begun to feel the improving hand of Dr. 
Mitchell (now Sir Arthur) who was himself so 

warm an advocate of the Gheel principle. In 
1867, while in Europe to relieve the necessities of 
the Cretan refugees at Athens, Dr. Howe visited 
Gheel, and made its story known to his col- 
leagues of the board of charities, and to others. 
He also advocated in his official reports, for sev- 
eral years, the adoption of a Family Care sys- 
tem for some of the Massachusetts insane; al- 
thcmgh It was not till nine years after his death, 
in 1876, that the law allowing its introduction in 
Massachusetts was enacted. This was done at 
the recommenilation of the same state commis- 
sion, under another name, and I was made the 
deputy lunacy commissioner to put the law in 
operation. This was in the year 1885. 

Between October, 1885, and August, 1888, when 
some ill-judging officials succeeded in suspend- 
ing the Family Care system for six months or 
more, I had found places for 180 insane persons, 
of whom about 120 remained in families in Au- 
gust, 1888. During the next five years the sys- 
tem was allowed to languish, though patients 
continued to he sent out to board in families. 
It has been kept up, though with little zeal, until 
about two years ago, when the new State Board 
of Insanity, convinced of its usefulness, began 
to administer the law (which had never been re- 
pealed or modified) wnth some earnestness. 
The executive officer of this commission, Owen 
Copp, M. D., who heartily approves the principle 
of family care, and intends to have it practi- 
cally extended, has furnished me with the fol- 
lowing statistics of its operation in the seventeen 
years since the first patient was sent to a family, 
under the act of 1885: 

Statistics of Family Cake in Massachu 

Whole number sent to families from 

asylums, etc.. 
Whole number sent back to asylums, 

Present number in families (Aug. 1, 

Number discharged, died, etc., in 17 

Of whom there died in families. 
Of wliom there died in asylums, etc.. 
Of whom there became self-support- 
ing, or supported by friends, 
Of wliom went to almshouses, etc., 
Of whom there eloped and were not 

Apparent number now in asylums, 

Real number (estimated), 
Remaining in the families where first 

placed (of 125), 
Remaining in other families. 
Average number in families since 

August, 1885 (estimated), 



















*See Sanborn's "Memoirs of Plinv Earle, 
M. D." (Boston, Damrell & Upham, 1898), pp. 277, 
317, 331, etc., Sanborn's "Life of S. G. Howe, 
M. D." (New York, 1891), also contains a full ac- 
count of Dr. Howe's connection with family 

Upon these figures a few remarks may be 
made, and some of the deductions from them will 
be found important. 

The number of deaths in families in 17 years 
having been but 53, or a little more than three a 
year, by average, the percentage of deaths to 
the average number has been less than .04, — 
showing that the mortality of the insane has 
been rather diminislied than increased by the 
system. Even adding to the deaths in families 
the 30 who died in asylums within six months of 
their return, the percentage (less than five 



deaths a year upon an average of 100 in families) 
is not quite .05. 

Considering now the number who have become 
self-supporting, or have been cared for by 
friends in the 17 years (86), and remembering 
that these patients, in nine cases out of ten, were 
the public poor, and that most of them were 
chronic cases, ranging in their period of asylum 
life, before they were placed out, from one year 
to twelve and fifteen, and their average asylum 
life having been, at least, three years,— the re- 
sult is surprising and satisfactory. An average 
of five persons a year,— rather more than the 
number of deaths— upon a total average of 100 
persons, have been taken off the public list, 
and have ceased to be a public burden. Indeed, 
of the total number of different persons thus 
placed under family care (534), of whom 125 are 
still in families, leaving a total of 409 to be ac- 
counted for, 86 persons, or one in every four and 
and three fourths (more than one fifth) have 
ceased to be a public burden. This is far more 
than the usual proportion among the insane poor 
in asylums, and it shows one of the most bene- 
ficial results of this method of care in Massachu- 
setts. Attention to a few of such cases which 
have come within my own knowledge, before 
and since I had official charge of the system, 
will show this in a more striking manner. 

Three patients, women, were placed by me in a 
family in the town of Sandwich in Massachusetts, 
in October, 1886. Their average asylum life at 
that time must have exceeded five years, and no 
one of them was contributing by her labor, in the 
least, to the cost of her support in the asylum 
from which they were taken. They were old, 
hopeless cases, in the judgment of the asylum 
physician, and he was not sorry to have them 
removed. In the family where they were placed 
the J' came under the affectionate oversight of a 
mother and two daughters,- the whole family 
then,— and in a few months they became active 
in domestic industry, to which all had been bred. 
Two of them still remain where I placed them, 
and for fourteen years, now, they have recom- 
pensed by their willing labor the cost of their 
support, and have had a home they would not 
have exchanged for any hospital care. The 
third patient, who was not in firm health when 
placed there, yet supported herself in the family 
by her labor for eight or ten years; then was 
cared for in age and inflrmitj' by the family, but 
finally, her disease growing unsuitable for 
family care, she was returned to an asylum hos- 
pital, where she died a few years ago. Her ab- 
sence from the asylum had saved to the public 
treasury thrice the cost which her last illness 
made necessary. The care of these two who 
remain would have cost the public, had they not 
been placed out, and had they lived till now, at 
least $3,000; and their life has been made cheer- 
ful and wholesome, instead of the dismal years 
in the incurable ward which would otherwise 
have been theirs. 

These women were of the servant class, and of 
Irish parentage or birth. An older patient, a 
woman of education and refinement, after an 
asylum life of nearly ten years, in which her for- 

tune had been consumed, and her support 
thrown upon the public (perhaps repaid by rela- 
tives at a small board-rate), was one of the first 
to be placed in a family by me in 1885- '86. Her 
relatives were so anxious to have her properly 
restrained (having seen her, years before, in her 
disturbed state) that they desired me to promise 
I would return her to the hospital if she was not 
suitably restricted in the family. In a few weeks 
they found her so quiet and happy in her new 
home, away from the noise and distraction of the 
hospital ward, that they took her to their own 
comfortable city home, where she spent the rest 
of her long life, dying at the age of 79, after living 
happily and agreeably to her friends for four- 
teen years after leaving the hospital. 

Such cases are, in some degree, exceptional, 
but there are far more of them than the ignorant 
or indifferent opponents of the Family Care sys- 
tem in America know or imagine. But the cases 
not exceptional, and which do not become self- 
supporting, do yet relieve the public of much 
cost, in the matter of asylum-building, particu- 
larly. At the rate of building-cost prevalent in 
Massachusetts since 1885, the 100 patients who 
have been constantly kept in families would have 
cost, in buildings and repairs, at least $50,000, the 
interest on which, at 5 per cent., would have 
maintained 15 persons in families all the inter- 
vening time. Scotland, which maintains about 
one fifth of all her insane in families (something 
more than 2,500 at present) is relieved of what 
would cost for buildings alone, in Massachusetts, 
at least $1,000,000. When to this it is added that 
the insane thus provided for without costly asy- 
lum buildings, are, as a rule, much happier and 
more useful than they can be in the best close 
asylums, it will be seen that family care is bound 
to prevail, up to the limit of safety, wherever 
people have the right use of their own reason, in 
disposing of those whose reason has left them. 

In other states than Massachusetts little has 
been done in the way of family care for the in- 
sane, but the question is now much discussed, 
and the tendency, in the more enlightened 
states, is towards adopting it in some form or 
degree. Perhaps Wisconsin, which has a pecu- 
liar lunacy law, allowing many unrecovered in- 
sane to remain outside of all asylums, may be 
the first to follow the example of Massachusetts. 

Some persons, writing in much ignorance of 
the actual facts of the family care experiment in 
Massachusetts, have spoken of its results as 
" unsatisfactory." On the contrary, it has been 
quite satisfactory, so far as it went, but has not 
been carried so far as it should have been, in the 
long period since I began it. The authorities 
that discontinued it in 1888, and then took it up 
again because popular feeling would not allow 
it to be abandoned, had no love for that or 
any other measure which improved the condi- 
tion of the insane. They had little knowledge of 
what insanity is, and less regard for its poor vic- 
tims; but they did not venture to do more than 
stay the progress of improvement in the treat- 
ment of the insane. The superintendents of the 
insane hospitals, most of whom favored the 
boarding-out experiment, would have under- 



taken, in some instances, to board out their own 
patients, under the supervision of their own phy- 
sicians and nurses,— a step which mipht have 
been taijen, and is now advocated by most of the 
hosi>itals of Massachusetts, which are over- 
crowded, and would be slight)}- relieved in this 
way; as they also are by the establishment of 
"colonies " (branch establishments of no great 
size, not far from the main hospital edifice). 
The two systems,— of farm colonies for 50 or 100 
patients, and of boarding one or two patients in 
each familj- of suitable character and situation, 
in different parts of Massachusetts, — might go on 
side by side, and probably will. Convenience 
and the condition of the patient in each case 
would determine whether he may be lodged in a 
farra-colony nearby the hospital, or sent to a 
greater distance under family care. The princi- 
ple in each system is the same,— to remove from 
the close asylum and its rigid rules those pa- 
tients who can be allowed greater freedom, and 
whose labor can be better employed than in the 
overcrowded monster hospital. 

A reaction against these monster hospitals 
has shown itself where it was little expected, in 
the Lunacy Commission of New York, which, for 
ten years, had been increasing the size and 
diminishing the employment of the state hospi- 
tals and their patients. The new president of 
this commission, an enlightened physician of 
European birth and experience, in his annual 
report for 1901, just made public, favors small 
hospitals for the curable, and farm-colonies for 
the chronic. If this change shall be made in the 
great state of New York, with its 25,000 insane, it 
will not be long before the initial steps towards 
family care will there be taken. Indeed, the 
boarding-out system, as practised now in Massa- 
chusetts. Scotland, France, Germany, and Bel- 
gium, gives the best opportunity for what the 
English call "After-Care," so far as the poor are 

I recall with great pleasure the two visits,— or 
rather three,— that I have made to Gheel, near 
Antwerp; in the winter of 1890, again in the sum- 
mer of that year, and finally in the summer of 
1893, before going down into Holland to visit the 
asylum at Meerenberg, near Haarlem. In both 
these years I also visited the Scutch cottages 
where the insane are boarded,— in 1890 at Kenno- 
way and Starr in the county of Fife, and in 1893 
at Balfron near Glasgow. In the two visits I saw 
nearly 100 of the patients under family care, and 
satisfied myself that, good as the Scotch system is, 
our Massachusetts arrangements for the comfort 
and discipline of the patients boarded out were 
quite as good. The Gheel system, though I 
agree with Sir Arthur Mitchell in praising it, is 
not so well adapted to America as the Scotch 
system, which I had followed in Massachusetts, 
upon the advice of Dr. Howe, and the reports of 
others, before I ever saw it in operation in Scot- 
land. Both .systems, and also the village asylum 
.system, as I saw it in 1893 at Morningside near 
Edinburgh, at Alt Scherbitz in Saxony, and at 
Gabersee in Cpper Bavaria, are great improve- 
ments on the monster-hospital system which 
prevails in England, France, and I regret to say 

in the United States. At Toledo, in Ohio, is a 
village hospital which the authorities of that 
state greatly praise, and which, I have no doubt, 
is well managed. But I have never seen a better 
asylum than that of Alt Scherbitz in Germany, 
and much preterits methods to those at Toledo, 
so far as they differ from each other. 

The three systems so well exemplified in 
Europe,— that of Gheel, of Scotland, and of Alt 
Scherbitz,— are not inconsistent with each other. 
They might be combined profitably; and to some 
extent thej' are so combined in Scotland, and 
soon will be, I trust, in the United States. I 
imagine that the international congress in Ant- 
werp, which I regret I cannot attend, and for 
which I have written this hasty paper, will do 
something to promote such a combination. No 
exclusive system,— least of all that of the close 
asylums,— can do for the increasing numbers of 
the insane all that their unfortunate condition 
requires. In breaking up this exclusive system, 
the family care methods of Belgium, of trance, 
and of Scotland are most useful; and I congratu- 
late the congress in advance for the good I am 
sure It will accomplish. 

F. B. S.\NBORN. 

Concord, Mass., August 20, 1902. 

The instance of the three patients 
cared for by Miss Alice Cooke of Sand- 
wich (at the head of Cape Cod), de- 
serves to \)Q more fully treated than 
in the above concise account it could 
I)e. Miss Cooke was a trained nurse 
who had been employed for a time in 
tlie state almshouse (now called the 
"State Hospital") at Tewksbury; 
while there she had seen much of the 
chronic insane, and occasionally had 
the care of them in one large ward of 
the women's insane asylum. Her 
home family consisted of an elderly 
mother and a sister not in robust 
health: and it was Miss Cooke's wish 
to return and live with them in the 
old family house which her grand- 
father, a retired shipmaster, had 
l)Ought in Sandwich, not far from 
Spring Hill, that ancient resort of the 
AVings, Hoxies, and other Quakers, who 
had founded there one of the oldest 
Quaker meetings in America. The 
view of this house, a century and a 
half old at least, here given, is the end 



Locust Grove House looking towards Spring Hill. 

nearest the stable. 



Spring Hill. 

With this domestic plan in mind, 
Miss Cooke applied to me in the sum- 
mer of 188() for permission to take to 
her mother's house three of the chronic 
insane women at Tewksbury, — Cath- 
arine Mullen, Mary Doherty, and Jane 
AVhite; the two first-named being past 
middle life, and once trained as ser- 
vants, while Jane was a younger woman 
of tlie peasant class in Ireland, accus- 
tomed to rough out-door work. 
Neither of them had done any useful 
work at Tewksbury for a long time; 
they were idle, and often disorderly, 
and far from promising in their out- 
ward aspect. Miss Cooke had found 
them manageable, however, and the 
superintendent, the humane and ex- 
perienced Dr. C. Irving Fisher, now 
of the Presbyterian hospital, New 

York, vouched for them as suitable to 
live in a family, and for Miss Cooke as 
a proper care-taker. I therefore gave 
the desired permission, in October, 
1886, and the three women went to 

They were then uutidy, often noisy, 
and almost wholly unaccustomed' to 
work, though physically well, and aljle 
to do so, if any kindly and patient 
woman would undertake the task. 
Miss Cooke and her mother and sister 
were e((ual to it. Their house had 
few of the modern conveniences; the 
water must be drawn at the well, the 
fuel brought in from the woodshed, 
there was no furnace or bath-room or 
set laundry, and the kitchen was not 
very spacious. xVll this, however, may 
have been a help in teaching these poor 
women how to take up again the long- 
disused employments of household in- 



^'^ d , {]^^r^^^ 

dustr}'; for tlie simpler and more num- 
erous tlie " chores/' the easier the les- 
son for the learners, though hard 
enough for the teachers. A great help 
was found in the taste and skill in 
music which Miss Cooke had among 
her other qualities; her piano and her 
banjo were of much use as well as en- 
tertainment in taming these wild souls 
from that land of melancholy and jo- 
vial melody, Green Erin. At my first 
visit, — for I made it a point to see 
every patient \\\ the homes selected for 
tliem, — I perceived that a change had 
come over the " three Graces," as I 
jocosely termed them. They had be- 
come cjuieter, were turning with inter- 
est to industry, and already the kitchen 

seemed like home to them. Katy de- 
veloped a turn for taking care of the 
poultry and waiting on the table; and 
Jane was not only a drawer of water 
and f etcher of wood, but a rude sort of 
gardener. Years afterwards, in look- 
ing back on their training, I thought 
these verses fairly descriptive of the 
slow but successful process: 

Her gift once found, she made it much 
her care 

To soothe and tame the wildest crea- 
tures there; 

Pleased they beheld, even with those 
frenzied eyes, 

Her tender ways, — their solace and sur- 



Her courage calm when anger, true or 

Threatened the blow that her strong 

hand restrained; 
Her diligent labor at each menial toil, 
And her bright lamp that never lacked 

for oil. 
The fixed and haggard look grew soft 

and mild 
In those sad faces, and once more they 

Slowly their fashions strange they put 

Checked the loose tongue, the un- 
wonted labor tried; 
With awkward zeal, and such as love 

Could show or bear, tliey made her 

tasks their own. 
Each knew her place, each found her 

happiest hour 
In that brown cottage with its orchard 

They plied their toil, they roamed 

through field and wood, 
Plucked the wild berries, fed the cack- 
ling brood. 
Tilled the small garden, spread the 

ample meal. 
Sang their old songs and danced to 

music's peal. 

Although taken a few years later, 
this portrait of Miss Cooke shows lier 
as she was, but a little more serious un- 
der her responsibilities, when she as- 
sumed the care of her three patients. 
Gradually, so well had she succeeded 
that two others were placed with her, 
— the price agreed for their board be- 
ing $3.50 a week, witlr a small sum ad- 
ditional for clothing. So industrious 
did they become, and so frugal was the 
family, that, although the patients 
fared l)etter, in foorl, warintli. and 

household comfort, than they had in 
the costly hospitals, this small pay- 
ment gave an income with which many 
improvements were made in the an- 
cient house. It was not until more 
lucrative private patients were re- 
ceived, however, in the vears after 

7 7 ^ 

1889, that Miss Cooke enlarged her 
stable and set up her carriage for the 
comfort of the inmates to whom a 
daily drive was important. The one 
horse, used at first, in time became a 

I have often participated in drives 
about that picturesque seashore re- 
gion, where of late the admirable art- 
ist. Dodge Mclvnight, has been sketch- 
ing in glowing color the singular beau- 
ties of hill and dale, lake and stream 
and ocean, which make Sandwich one 
of the most enviable resorts of the 
painter and the sportsman. Mr. Mc- 
Knight's home and studio are but a 
gunshot beyond Locust Grove, towards 
East Sandwich and Barnstable. 

The two inmates represented in the 
kitchen view, are those who survive, 
after sixteen hapjjy years in this re- 
treat, where Jane and Katy have had 
more real comfort, and been of more 
true iisefulness, probably, than in any 
equally long period of their lives. 
Katy is approaching seventy, if not 
already at that age, while Jane has 
passed fifty. Mary Dohert}^, never in 
so firm health as the others, and of a 
more difficult and suspicious temper, 
yet spent more than ten years at Lo- 
cust Grove, and lived in general har- 
mony with the other two. The addi- 
tional two patients, Martha and Hen- 
rietta, both of German parentage, who 
lived Avith Miss Cooke for a year or 
two, could not be kept at her expense, 
for manv months after the state offi- 



cials, acting under petty jealousies, and 
irritated at Miss Cooke's refusal to al- 
low her patients to be sent illegally 
back to an almsliouse, withheld the 
stipulated price of board. My friends, 
and those of Dr. Howe, — he had been 
dead more than ten years, — paid this 
board for a time; and after Miss Cooke 
began to receive private paying pa- 
tients,— as she did in 1889-'90,— the 
domestic labors of the "'three Graces" 
made them self-supporting, as they 
have been most of the time for a dozen 



Jane and Katy in their Kitchen. 

years. Their labor was not excessive, 
and they had many hours when, as in 
this picture, they sat in their clean and 
cosy kitchen, resting from cheerful 
toil, or rambled about the country, 
gathering flowers, berries, or bright 
leaves. This was Jane's special de- 
light, and she often kept the rooms 
adorned with such tokens of her care. 
When the state officials (foiled in 
their plan to have the Sandwich over- 
seers of the poor send Miss Cooke's five 
inmates to the Tewksbury almshouse, 
to be shut up in idleness among the 

[)aupers) were meditating other plans 
to punish Miss Cooke for her defense 
of the rights of her poor patients, the 
probate Judge of her county, Barn- 
stable (Judge Harriman, who has 
lately retired), placed them under her 
legal authority as guardian, and so 
they remained, unmolested, until she 
herself had them duly committed to a 
hospital or asylum, under the law. 
The opposition to her spirited course 
continued, however, on the part of 
some who should have been more gen- 
erous, and for several years prevented 
her from getting a license from the 
governor to receive private patients. 
Finally a member of the governor's 
council, very favorable to the family 
care of the insane, interposed, and the 
opposition was withdrawn, so that for 
nearly ten years past, the Locust Grove 
Home has been one of the recognized 
private asylums of Massachusetts. Her 
references, as may be seen by the an- 
nexed list, which could easily be much 
increased, are of the best, and the care 
which she has given to difficult cases 
has sometimes resulted in recovery, 
where physicians have failed.* 

Eeferences: Frederick Peterson, M. 
D., Xew York city, president of the 
state lunacy commission of Xew York; 
C. Irving Fisher, M. D., superintendent 
Presbyterian hospital, New York city; 
G. E. White, M. D., Sandwich, Mass.; 
E. H. Faunce, M. D., Sandwich, Mass.; 
M. F. Delano, M. D., Sandwich, Mass.; 
Hon. Alvan Barrus, trustee jSTorthamp- 
ton insane asylum; Hon. Howes Nor- 
ris, Boston, Mass.; Jas. H. Xickerson, 
West Xewton, Mass., president First 
National bank. 

* Note. A delay in printing this article has al- 
lowed the Antwerp wlume to appear. It may be 
ordered of Dr. Fritz Sano, Antioch, at a cost of 25 


By John C. Linehan. 

Note. — An explanation is due the reader. 
Nearlj every town historian in New Hampshire 
claims that all those people who came here from 
Ireland before the Revolution, with verj- few ex- 
ceptions, were of direct Scotch origin, with no 
mixture of Irish blood whatever. 

To show how absurd such statements are the 
following paper has been prepared: 

The best known family names in Ireland and 
Scotland are of old Gaelic origin, and come from 
one common stock, thus showing their relation- 
ship. Others there are peculiar to Ireland, or to 
Scotland alone. The difference in the main is 
caused by their translation from Gaelic to 
English. To illustrate this,— in the Highlands 
the son of John is known as " Mac Ian." In Ire- 
land as " Mac Shane." Muiredhach is the Gaelic 
root for Murray, more peculiar to Scotland, and 
for Murphy, best known in Ireland. 

Another corrupt but better known form of 
Muiredhach in Scotland is Murrach or Murrich. 
In Ireland it is Murrough, but the Gaelic pronun- 
ciation is the same in either. When the prefix Mac 
is added it becomes MacMurrough, or MacMur- 
rach, or MacMurrich, or the son of Murrough; 
Anglicized, Morrison. Muiredhach was the first 
Christian king of Ireland. It will be seen from 
this that the name in its Gaelic form is one of the 
most ancient in northern Europe, for St. Patrick 
came to Ireland in 430 A. D. 

As a rule the names givenhereinare those more 
peculiar to Ireland than to Scotland. Several 
like " Burns," and others are common to both 
countries; usually in Ireland the name is spelled 
Byrnes, but the pronunciation is the same. 

As peculiarly Irish, both given and proper, as 
these names appear, however, our historians, with 
few exceptions, class them all as Scotch; for this 
reason to suit their humor, the same rule has been 
followed here. 

The reader will therefore excuse the seeming 
levitj' as it serves the purpose far better than ar- 
gument could. 

The common origin of the Irish, " the true Scots 
of history," and the Scotch is now too well known 
to dwell upon here. The Duke of Argyle, in an 
issue of the Youth's Companion of the present 
year, 1902, had an article on " The Western Isles," 
admitting the kinship. Every authentic writer 
treating on the subject, either in Chambers, or 
the Encyclopaedia Britannica, or authors like 
Buckle, Green, Knight, Sir Henry Main, Lingard, 
Pinkerton, Lecky, etc., all acknowledge it, 
but thus far our New Hampshire historians stick, 
not to historical facts, but to their own theories. 

However, the light is breaking. A change is 

gradually taking place. It will extend in its own 
good time to New Hampshire. When it does the 
wrong will be righted. The evidence of the truth 
ot this is proved by the following extracts. With 
them the chapter is closed for the present: 

" I am not one of those who care to speak of 
Anglo-Saxon civilization. It is a misnomer. The 
truer and altogether the fairer name is Saxon- 
Celtic. For the Anglos, while they gave their 
name to England, were lost in the Saxon stock, 
and being superseded should give way to that 
other racial force which has done so much for 
modern progress, and which is usually unrecog- 
nized—the Celtic. 

" Society as it exists to-day in Great Britian and 
her colonies, a'nd in the United States, is the pro- 
duct mainly of both races. 

" The Celt and the Saxon are two streams flowing 
from one fountain head. However much thej' 
have turbulently crossed each other's paths, they 
have come together, have inter-married, and 
inter-mingled their social interests. If ever Provi- 
dence discloses its manifest purpose, in this in- 
stance we are warranted in concluding that it 
means the ultimate harmony of these two races." 
—Rev. Dr. Geo. C. Lorimer, on " The Celt and the 

"The Scots went over from Ireland in the sixth 
century, and from them Northern Britain was 
called Scotland, and when the Scots came back 
to Ireland under James I, they only returned to 
their old homes."— Col. F. C. McDowell before the 
Scotch Irish Congress, in Columbia, Tenn., 1889. 

" To awaken and maintain an active interest on 
the part of the Gael in Canada in the Gaelic 
language, as a living speech; in the literature, 
history, antiquities, manners, and customs of the 
Gaelic races; and generally, in the wide field of 
Celtic antiquities, literature, and art." — From cir- 
cular calling Convention of Canadian Scotch in 
Toronto, 1896. 

" Some of our more thoughtful historians or 
students of history will pretend to tell j^ou when 
the Scotch-Irish race began. I have not heard 
even our Scotch Irishmen, who have studied the 
question, do the subject justice. No such race of 
men could be created in a generation; no such 
achievement could be born in a century; no such 
people as the Scotch -IrLsh could be completed 
even in century after century; and while you are 
told that the Scotch-Irish go back in their achieve- 
ments to the day of John Knox, John Knox lived 
a thousand years after the formation of the 
Scotch-Irish character began. It was like the 
stream of your western desert that comes from 
the mountain and makes the valleys beautiful 



and green and fragrant, and then is lost in the 
sands of the desert. Men will tell you that 
it disappears and is lost. It is not. After 
traversing perhaps hundreds of miles of 
subterranean passages, forgotten, unseen, 
it is still doing its work, and it again 
before it reaches the sea and again makes new 
fields, green and beautiful. It required more 
than a thousand years to perfect the Scotch- 
Irish character. It is of a creation single from 
all races of mankind, and a creation not of one 
people, nor of one century, nor even five cen- 
turies, but a thousand years of mingled effort and 
sacrifice, to present to the world the perfect 
Scotch-Irish character. 

" If you would learn when the characteristics of 
the Scotch-Irish began, go back a thousand 
years beyond the time of John Knox, and you 
will find that there was a crucial test that formed 
the men that perfected the Scotch-Irish char- 
acter after years and years of varying conflict 
and success, until the most stubborn, the most 
progressive, the most aggressive race in achieve- 
ment was given to the world. Let us go back to 
the sixth century, and what do we find ? Ireland, 
the birthplace of the Scotch-Irish! We find 
Ireland foremost of all the nations of the earth, 
not only in religious progress, but in literature, 
and for two centuries thereafter the teacher of 
the world in all that made men great and 
achievements memorable. For two centuries the 
Irish of Ireland, in their own green land, were 
the teachers of men, not only in religion, but in 
science, in learning, and in all that made men 
great. She had her teachers and her scientists, 
men who filled the pulpits and went to every 
nation surrounding it; and it was there that the 
Scotch-Irish character became evident which 
afterwards made themselves felt wherever they 
have gone."— Col. Alexander McClure before the 
Scotch-Irish Congress in Columbia, Tenn., 1889. 

" From the single standpoint of language there 
seems to be no doubt that the first race whose 
presence in Britain has usually held to be 
beyond dispute, was the Celtic. It is equally es- 
tablished that the Celts of the British Isles were 
Aryans speaking related languages which fall in- 
to two groups, the Gaidelic and the Brj-thonic. 
The Gaedelic group embraces at the present 
time the Galelic of Ireland, the Isle of Man, and 
of Scotland."— Prof. John Rhys of Oxford College, 
in " The Welsh People." 

MOXG the pioneers of the 
Granite state none were of 
more value than tho<e of 
pure Scotch hlood horn in 
Ireland. Their praises 
have been sounded in story and song, 
and most deservedly so; for they were 
a thrifty, frugal, and liberty-loving 

An article in a recent numl)er of 

The Granite Monthly is the occa- 
sion of these reflections. Therein it is 
written that Philip Riley, " a Scotch- 
man." was the first settler of a well- 
known Xew Hampshire town. The 
fact that Mr. Riley was born in Ireland 
is the best proof that he was a Scotch- 

^lany more there were among the 
first settlers of the old Granite state 
of the same nationality, and their 
names ought to be made known in part 
at least to the present generation, so 
that the sons and daughters of New - 
Hampshire may properly appreciate 
the part taken in the building of the 
state by the pure Scotch from Ireland. 

One of the most notable of the mod- 
ern Scotch writers was the late John 
Boyle O'Reilly, who was born in the 
Scotch part of the County Meath. He 
was, as his name indicates, a most in- 
tense Scotchman because he was born 
in Ireland. 

John Sullivan was another of the 
same class. His ancestral home was 
in the Scotch part of the " Kingdom 
of Kerr}^," but he himself was born in 
the Highlands of Limerick. As Bos- 
well's father said of Dr. Johnson, '"' He 
was an auld dominie who kept a skule 
and called it an academy." 

He labored in this field for over 
fifty years, and in age, lived past the 
century mark. He was the father of 
four sons, all of whom were commis- 
sioned oificers in the Continental army. 
One of them bearing liis own name was 
the only major-general from Xew 
Hampshire during the great strug- 
gle; he was also one of its first gov- 
ernors. His brother James was gov- 
ernor of Massachusetts. All were fine 
types of the genuine Scotch race. 

The town of Holderness in its early 



days possessed another gallant Scotch- 
man in the person of Capt. Bryan Mc- 
Sweeny. He came from the Scotch 
part of Cork. He participated in the 
French and Indian wars. His name 
figures frequently in the provincial 
papers, and he hecame a captain in 
the Eevolutionary period. Col. Her- 
cules Mooney, who was teaching school 
in Somersworth in 1733, and who com- 
manded a regiment in Ehode Island 
under Sullivan in 1777, was another 
noted Scotchman from Dublin, which 
in ancient times was the capital of 
Scotia. Holderness possesses the ashes 
of those two gallant Scotchmen. 

Contemporary with the McSweenys 
in Holderness was Michael Dwyer, 
who was, as his name indicates, a full- 
blooded Scotchman from the Scotch 
part of Tipperary. He and Mc- 
Sweeny were selectmen of the town 
in those old days. 

A little to the east, at the same time, 
in Sandwich, was "' Master John Dono- 
van," who was, like the Scotch Sulli- 
van, teaching school. He came, un- 
doubtedly, from the Scotch part of 
Fermoy in Cork. His great-grandson, 
Edward Donovan, was chairman of the 
board of selectmen of Sandwich in 

A man whose name figures quite of- 
ten in the provincial papers and in 
the Eevolutionary rolls, was Patrick 
O'Flynn. Were there any doubt 
about his Scotch origin, the appear- 
ance of his name would dispel it. He 
probably came from the Scotch part 
of Donnybrook. This was clear from 
his love of fighting. He served from 
Bunker Hill to Yorktown, and was 
living as late as 1825 in the state of 
Illinois, his name appearing on the 
pension rolls of the United States on 
that date. 

Another who gave his life for the 
same cause was Patrick Cogan. He 
was quartermaster of the First X. H. 
Continental regiment under Stark, 
Cilley, and Eeed. He died while in 
the service in 1780. He probably 
came from the Scotch part of Kil- 
kenny, for he was a Mlling man. He 
lived in Durham and residing there 
at the same time, undoubtedly rela- 
tives, were Stephen, Joseph, William, 
and Joseph Cogan, Jr., all sturdy 
Scotchmen from Ireland. 

John Casey served as a volunteer 
aid on the staff of Stark at Benning- 
ton. He was another In'ave Scotch- 
man from the Scotch home of the 
Caseys, near the rock of Cashel. 

Darby Kelly, a Scotchman, as his 
name indicates, from the Scotch part 
of Conneniara. was in Xew Hampshire 
as early as 1750, a soldier, school- 
master, and farmer. Few of the early 
settlers have left more useful descend- 
ants. His son, Samuel Kelly, was one 
of Xew Hampton's first settlers. , His 
grandson. Ma j. -Gen. Benjamin F. 
Kelly, of West Virginia, was one of the 
heroes of the Civil War. His great- 
grandson, Capt. Warren M. Kelly, of 
Hooksett, served in Donahoe's Tenth 
Xew Hampshire, the only Scotch regi- 
ment from Xew Hampshire in the 
Civil War. Another great-grandson 
was the late Dr. Francis H. Kelly, ex- 
mayor of Worcester; and a great-grand- 
daughter is the wife of the Hon. Joseph 
H. AValker of AVorcester, who is the 
owner of the old Kelly homestead in 
Xew Hampshire. On account of the 
appearance of the name the question 
has been raised as to the family being 
Scotch, but there is no doubt about 
that as I)ar1)y Kelly came from Ire- 

His great-grandson. Dr. Kelly men- 


tioned, is the authority. Dr. Bouton, Cornelius Conner, Edward Dwyer, 
in his history of Concord, makes men- Eoger Kelly, George Gurley, and John 
tion of Patrick Guinlan (properly Driscoe (Driscoll). Between 1700 and 
Quinlan), who was teaching school in 1775 the number was still further in- 
that town before the Kevolution. As creased by Jeremiah Conner, Moses 
his name indicates, he was a Scotch- Conner, Daniel Leary, Joseph Cole- 
man, pure and simple, from the Scotch man, John McGowan, Thomas Leary, 
part of Kinsale, and a full-blooded Samuel Mighill, John Cartee, Patrick 
Anglo-Saxon. Greing, Daniel Kelly, Daniel Cartee, 

A contemporary of his in Concord, Xathaniel Meloon (Malone), John 

also named by Bouton, was Capt. John Flood, Michael Brown, Michael George, 

Eoach, a retired ship-master from the Daniel Sullivan, Eobert Dunn, Samuel 

Scotch part of Cork. He married the Haley, and John Meloney. 

divorced wife of Maj. Eobert Eogers, An entry appears in the provincial 

the ranger. A pastoral visit to this records during the period named, of a 

family is noted in the diary of the Eev, payment of fifty pounds to Humphrey 

Timothy Walker. Sullivan for teaching school in Exeter. 

Still another was Patrick Garvin, No Scotchman from Ireland can read 

undoubtedly from the Scotch town of those names and not feel an exulting 

Dungarvin in the Scotch county of beating of the heart at the presence of 

"Waterford, in the Scotch part of the these brawny Scotchmen" from the 

south of Ireland. Garvin's falls in the Scotch parts of Ireland in the good old 

Merrimack, just south of Concord, scholastic town of Exeter over two 

bears his name. Darby Field, " an hundred years ago. Their names in 

Irish soldier for discovery," so the pro- appearance are as Scotch as the 

vincial records read, was in Exeter or heather-clad hills of historic Killar- 

vicinity in 1631 or thereabouts. He ney. The very fact that a Scotch Sul- 

is credited with being the first Euro- livan was teaching the young ideas how 

pean to discover and ascend the White to shoot in those remote days in Exe- 

Mountains. He died in Exeter in ter is something for the modern Scotch 

1649. Without question he was one Sullivans to be proud of. 

of the first Scotchmen from Ireland to Among the original proprietors of 

visit the old Granite state. the town of Acworth were John Mc- 

Many of Darby Field's kin were with Murphy, Eobert McCoy, Timothy 

him in Exeter or in its neighborhood. O'Leary, Thomas McQuiggan, William 

Eichard Bulger, Eichard Morris, Will- Lyons, Thomas Murdough, Henry 

iam Coole, James Wall, and William Gleason, James McLaughlan, John 

Moore were there before 1640. The Mitchell, John ISTolan, Daniel Hart, 

number was augmented before 1700 by and Samuel McDuffee. 

the names of Philip Cartee, Jerry Con- Among Amherst's first settlers were 

nor, Tague Drisco (Driscoll), ^ Denny Daniel Kenny, William Collins, Jacob 

Kelly, Cornelius Lary (Leary), Henry Flinn, John Kehew, Daniel Burns, 

Magoon (McGowan), Michael French, Andrew Shannon, Stephen Butler, 

John Cartee, Gerald Fitzgerald, Philip Thomas Harney, Michael Cartee, 

Dudy, Philip Conner, Thomas Haley, James Cash, Michael Keif, James Mc- 

G.M.— 3 • 



Graw, Timothy Martin, Henry Han- 
ley, Daniel McGrath. The latter was 
killed at Bunker Hill. 

An Irish statistician in the classifi- 
eation of names in the last census of 
Great Britain and Ireland, places Mur- 
phy at the head; that being the most 
numerous of all the names in Ireland. 
It is, therefore, gratifying to know that 
this great Scotch clan in Ireland was 
represented among the pioneer settlers 
of New Hampshire in the person of 
John McMurphy. To he sure John 
had a prefix to his name, but it was 
placed there to emphasize the fact that 
he was the son of Murphy, and as such 
one of that noted Scotch clan. An- 
trim is one of the Scotch towns, and 
like its name its first settlers were pure 
Scotch from Ireland. The first white 
man to build a log hut there in 1774 
was Philip Riley, a Scotchman. He 
was followed in 1772 by two other ad- 
venturous Scotchmen from Ireland, 
Maurice Lynch and Tobias Butler, who 
came from the well-known Scotch 
county of Galway, in the Scotch part 
of Connaught. It is written of Lynch 
that " he was a man of some education, 
a land surveyor and first town clerk." 
He was also credited with being a 
beautiful penman. Tobias Butler was 
also town clerk, a teacher, and a soldier 
in the Revolutionary War. Lynch 
died in New Boston in 1784. 

As far north as Boseawen was in 
1784, representatives of the race were 
found in the persons of Edward Fitz- 
gerald, Richard Kelly, Richard Flood, 
Benjamin Doody, Nathaniel Meloon 
(Malone), and Patrick Callahan. 

Fitzgerald was a prosperous, influ- 
ential man, and all must have been 
full-blooded Scotch Anglo-Saxon, if 
names are any indication thereof. 

In Barnstead as early as 1768 were 
John and Stephen Pendergast, of a 
noted pure-blooded Scotch family, 
from Kilkenny probably. 

James McQuade was one of Bed- 
ford's first settlers. He was killed by 
Indians in 1745. 

Among the Bunker Hill soldiers 
from this town whose names are pub- 
lished by Col. G. C. Gilmore in the 
legislative manual of 1889, were John 
Callahan, David Moore, Patrick Fling, 
James Orr, Thomas McLaughlan, Pat- 
rick Murphy, Luke Egan, Thomas Mc- 
Cleary, John Manahan, John O'Neil, 
and Hugh Matthews. A glance at 
these names will convince the most 
sceptical of the pure Scotch origin of 
the men who bore them. Not even the 
check-list of Manchester's Scotch Ward 
five looks more Scotch than they do. 

More than a century ago a gallant 
Scotchman who lived in the Scotch 
part of the north of Ireland, Dr. Dren- 
nan wrote, — 

" On the green hills of Lister the 

white cross waves high 
And the beacon of war throws its 

flames to the sky; 
Now the taunt and the threat let the 

coward endure. 
Our hope is in God and in Rory 


" Bold Rory O'Moore" was the idol 
of the pure Scots in the north of Ire- 
land. Patrick Nevin and Joseph 
Nevill were in Chester among its first 
settlers, and with them were John 
Moore and William Healey. 

In Chesterfield, in 1781, were Oliver 
and Valentine Butler, Michael Cressy, 
and Richard Coughlan, the latter a 
Revolutionary soldier. 

In Londonderry were McMurphy, 


McCormick, McXcil, McLauglilan, Mc- " Moore/' drove the first team to Con- 

Coniliie, McCartney, McConnell, Mc- cord, was Jacob Shute. He came from 

Carth}', ^IcLennehan, McBride, Bryan, the Scotch part of Dublin. According 

Moore, Fleming, Boyle, Kennedy, Ean- to Bouton his ancestors came from 

kin, Kell}^ Cassay (Casey), O'Brien, France to Ireland. Consequently he 

CaTanaugh, Callahan, — all typical was a pure-blooded Scotchman. Two 

Scotchmen from Ireland. of his descendants were commissioned 

Derryfield, an offshoot from London- officers in the Second N. H. Vols, in 

derry and the home of Stark, had for the Civil War. 

its moderator at the first town meet- Among the Eevolutionary soldiers 

ing held September 20, 1751, John Mc- from Dunstable were Stephen, John, 

Murphy. He was one of the town's and Samuel Connery, and "William and 

great men. Before the date given and James Dandley. 

the outbreak of the Eevolution, the Stephen Coole, James Butler, Sam- 

foUowing pure Scotch names appear as uel Kilpatrick, Joseph Dunn, Eichard 

per Potter's history in the annals of the Gleason, John and James Gary, and 

town: Patrick Fassett, were in the town of 

John McNeil, James McQuaid, John Fitzwilliam between 1771 and 1780. 
McLaughlan, John McDuffee, William The historian of Francestown makes 
]\IcMaster, John McQuigg, Thomas mention of the following, all of whom 
McLaughlan, Eobert McCormack, were from the Scotch part of the north 
James McCaughlan, George McMur- of Ireland: James Burns, Charles 
ph}^, John McCarty, James McMahon, Cavanaugh, James Martin, James Man- 
John Burns, Patrick Gault, Thomas ahan, John McLaughlan, Thomas Mc- 
Cunningham, Timothy Clemens, Pat- Laughlan, William McMaster, Hugh 
rick Taggart, Fergus Kennedy, Gerald Moore, Edmund McDonald, Michael 
Fitzgerald, William Kelly, David Monohan, John Monohan, Mary Quig- 
Welch, James Onail (O'JSTeil), Michael ley, Jane Quigley, and Barnet McKain. 
Johnson, John Welch, Darby Kelly, He also wrote that " Thomas Quig- 
Patrick Clark, John Griffin, James ley, a brave and smart young Scotch- 
Conner, Daniel Flood, Edward Barry, man, born in the Scotch part of Ire- 
John Herron, James Gorman, John land, came over in 1724." He died in 
O'Neil, John Jordan, Valentine Sulli- 1790. 

van, John Barry, John O'Brien, Tim- He also chronicles the fact that Ed- 
othy Harrington, Eichard Flood, Mar- ward Brennan and Margaret ]\Ianahan, 
tin B}Tne, Thomas Gillis, Matthew his wife, came from Boston to Frances- 
Bryant, John Callahan, Luke Egan, town in 1813. " Brennan's brook" 
John Eankin, John Martin, James takes its name from him. " Driscoll's 
Cavanaugh. This is a glorious roll, for hill " is another well-known locality 
nearly all of those named served in the in town. 

War of Independence. Their appear- Among the proprietors of the town 

ance is evidence of the Scotch nation- of Gilmanton, 1727, were Jeremiah 

ality of those sturdy pioneers of New and Philip Connor, William Doran, 

Hampshire's Queen city. Walter ISTeal, John Connor, Cornelius 

The man who, according to Drisco (Driscoll), and Cornelius Con- 


nor. Among its first settlers were Michael Silk, and John Coughran. 
Stephen Butler and John and Jeremiah Eyan left many influential and useful 
Connor. Among the Eevolutionary descendants. Two others were James 
soldiers from the town were Samuel Flood and John McBride. 
Maloon (Malone), Eobert Bryant, John One of New Boston's first settlers 
Welch, and Dr. Benjamin Kelly. was William McNeil. He was a school- 
In Gilsum were Patrick Griffin and master. This name is of pure Scotch 
Daniel Gunn, and in Hampton were origin, — the king of all Ireland in 430 
Paul Healey, Holdredge Kelly, John A. D. being Loughaire McNeil. Both 
Murphy, James Kelly, and a namesake names are well represented in New 
of the sweet Scotch poet, Thomas Hampshire's early history in the per- 
Moore; Samuel and Eunice Eyan were sons of McClary and McNeil. John 
in Hancock in 1789. Among the McLaughlan is credited with being the 
grantees of Haverhill in 1763 were Ed- very first settler of the town. Two 
ward and Benjamin Moore, Joseph other pioneers were Daniel McMillan 
Kelly, James Nevin, and John Moore, and John Lynch. William, Eoger, and 
and Michael Johnson, who was one of John Kelly are mentioned in Dr. 
the two first settlers of the town. Kelly's history of New Hampton as 
Eev. Simon Finlay Williams, who being prominent figures at the Isles of 
was a pastor in Gilmanton in 1793, Shoals before the beginning of the 
was the son of Eev. Simon Williams, eighteenth century. Dr. Kelly de- 
who was born in Trim in the County scribes his great-grandfather. Darby 
Meath. He was also a chaplain in the Kelly, as a " bright, quick-witted Irish- 
navy, man." He is, of course, mistaken, for 
Eev. Jonathan McGee was one of the nearly all New Hampshire town his- 
trustees of Gilmanton academy in its torians are united on one point, and 
early days. that is, that no Irish came here from 
The good old town of Henniker, the Ireland in those early days, all being 
home of that gallant veteran of the pure Scotch, and different from the 
Civil War, Col. L. W. Cogswell, had Irish in blood, morals, language, and 
among its first settlers, in 1766, Daniel religion. If this statement is doubted 
Connor, who was followed later by then scan the names given herein, for 
Daniel, John, and Moses Connor, and all are of the purest Scotch type. 
Cornelius Bean. Darby Kelly taught school in the old 

James McConnor, Stephen Powers, country. He was in Exeter in 1741. 

John Conroy, John Conroy, Jr., and The descendants of Darby are num- 

Samuel Conroy were in Hollis before erous and are scattered all over the 

1775. Union. His son Samuel, the founder 

One of Hopkinton's first settlers was of New Hampton, had six sons; and his 

Stephen Kelly. David Conner and grandson of the same name had five 

Jonathan and James O'Connor were in sons; one of the latter, Col. Benjamin 

the town before 1775. Among the Kelly, was the first postmaster in the 

pioneer settlers of Jaffrey were Dennis town. He had eleven children. The 

Organ (O'Eyan), John Borland, John christian name of Michael, which 

Coffenn, William McNee, David Eyan, might have been Darby^s proper name. 


has been preserved in the family even Butler, — the latter was the grand- 
to our own day, — one of his great- father of B. F. Butler. The gen- 
grandchildren bearing it. Surely this eral, in " Butler's Book," wrote that 
is the best evidence of the nationality his ancestors were Irish Presby- 
of the founder of the family, for Mi- terians, — thus falling into the usual 
chael Kelly is one of the best known error of careless writers. Another 
Scotch names in the Highlands of noted Scotch family from Ire- 
Connemara. land was that of the McClarys, which 
William and Daniel McClary, from located in this town as early as 1726. 
Ireland, were in New Ipswich in 1751. Andrew, the emigrant, had three sons 
They came there from Nuremburg, in the Continental army. One of 
Mass. Other pioneers of the town them, bearing his own name, was killed 
were Edmund and John Bryant, Ben- at Bunker Hill. John was killed at 
jamin Dunn, Charles McCoy, William Saratoga, and Michael held a captain's 
Moore, and John Plint. commission in the Continental army. 
Benjamin Giles, " said to have been The latter survived the great contest 
an Irishman," the leading man in New- and later was adjutant-general of New 
port during his life, bears honorable Hampshire. There are few localities 
mention in the history of the town, in Ireland or in this country where peo- 
and as well in the provincial and state pie of Irish origin have settled that 
papers. For the reasons given, we this name as Clary, Cleary, or McClary 
must conclude he was a Scotchman, cannot be found; nevertheless, it is of 
and sprang from some one of the great pure Scotch origin because it came 
clans of the Highlands of Kerry. The from Ireland. 

Kellys were also represented in this In the adjoining town of Deerfield, 

town in its early days by descendants from 1754 to 1774, were living Dom- 

of John Kelly of Newbury, Mass. He inick Griffin, John Lucy, John Meade, 

bears honorable mention in Coffin's James Griffin, Neil McGaffey, John, 

history of that town. It is said therein Thomas, and Matthew Welch, John 

that he settled in Newbury in 1631; and Daniel McCoy, Thomas McLaugh- 

that he came there from Old Newbury Ian, John Kelly, John Dwyer, and 

in England; that he was the son of an Thomas Walsh, — all Scotchmen, good 

Irishman, and an Englishwoman, and and true. 

born in England. Coffin, of course. In Pembroke, among the early set- 
was in error as to his nationality, ii tiers was Thomas Cunningham, James 
locality bears the name in remem- Neil, Thomas McConnell, John Mc- 
brance in the town Kellyville. Other Neil, Joseph Mulliken, John McGaf- 
early settlers were David Lyon, James fey, William Martin, David, Samuel, 
L, Eiley, and Daniel Welch. Moses, James, John, and David Con- 
In Nottingham, among its early set- nor, Jr. (The latter was chairman of 
tiers were Thomas Healey, Alexander the board of selectmen in 1769.) 
Lucy, Henry Butler, William Gill, Joseph Broderick, Andrew Cunning- 
William Welch, Joseph Gorman, John ham, Samuel Kelly, Patrick Eoach, 
Neale}-, Thomas McConnelly, John John Burns, Samuel McDuffee, Will- 
Maney, John Haley, and Zephania iam McLaughlan, Jacob McQuaid, John 


Barrett, and Daniel Collins, all of these to his grandfather's old church, in 

names were in Pembroke before 1774. 1793, an elegantly bound copy of the 

According to McClintock, the historian Bible. Daniel Duggin and Robert 

of Pembroke, all of them " were of pure Bryan were in town in 1678. In 1700, 

Saxon lineage with their blood un- Bridget Graffart made a gift to the 

mixed in the 17th century with the town of land upon which to build a 

half-barbaric Scotch Highlanders, or school. In 1727 Michael Brooks, John 

their more rude cousins, the Irish Fitzgerald, Robert Hart, Michael Main, 

Celts." John Moore, Moses Welch, and Jere- 

McClintock is a little rough on the miah Lary made their appearance. 

Irish and the Highlanders. The Irish Among those who took the " test 

are accustomed to it. The Highland- oath " in 1775 were James Ryan, Ed- 

ers were until Sir Walter Scott glorified mund Butler, John Clancy, James 

them in his novels, but McClintock Drisco (Driscoll), Richard Fitzgerald, 

must be right, for the names in appear- Dennis Hight, John Leina, Pierce 

ance mentioned are as Scotch as are Long, Nathaniel Shannon, and William 

those to be found in the vicinity of Welch. Pierce Long came from Lim- 

Bantry Bay and the county of Ross- erick in the Scotch south of Ireland. In 

common. his day he was one of the leading men 

In Peterborough the first settlers of Portsmouth. His son. Col. Pierce 

came from Ireland in 1749. Among Long, was a colonel in the Revolu- 

them William Mitchell, Robert McNee, tionary War, and was prominent in his 

John Kelly (killed at Fort George in day in the state. His lieutenant-col- 

1758), and the families of Cunning- onel was Hercules Mooney. 

ham, White, McCoy, Moore, and Mc- On July 24, 1686, John Kelly and 

Cloud. The first Wliite was named family were ordered to give security or 

Patrick. John Barry was there at the leave town. There was a great preju- 

same time. dice in those days on the part of the 

Among _ Capt. John Mason's stew- English against the kind of Scotchmen 

ards in Portsmouth in 1631 were Wal- of which Kelly was a representative, 

ter Neil, George Vaughan, Francis William Neal was a native of Belfast. 

Matthews, Thomas Furrell (Farrell), He was in Portsmouth in the begin- 

J^ames Wall, Thomas Moore, and the ning of the nineteenth century. He 

immortal Darby Field. Rev. Richard was a grocer. Brewster wrote that he 

Gibson, who was the first Episcopal was extremely sensitive in relation to 

minister in Portsmouth, in 1640, came anything written or spoken against Ire- 

from Ireland. Another Scotchman land or the Irish, and was so highly 

from Ireland was Rev. Arthur Brown, thought of that the editors of the local 

who was the Episcopal minister in the papers would scan closely all articles 

same town in 1736. His son, Rev. offered for publication so as not to 

Marmaduke Brown, was pastor of the print anything that might offend him. 

Episcopal church in Newport, R. I., This is evidence that Mr. Neal was a 

and his grandson, Prof. Arthur Brown, pure Scotchman, and he should be 

LL. D., of Dublin, Ireland, and a mem- classed, and hereby is classed, as such, 

ber of the Irish parliament, presented Facts should never stand in the way 



of theories, no matter how conclusive 
they niay appear. Jolm Cunningham, 
a fine penman, who married Betty 
Welcli, is also set down as of Irish 
origin; " Scotch " it should be. 

Among the Eevolutionary soldiers 
•from Eaymond were Samuel Healey, 
John Kelly, Richard Flood, John 
Moore, and James Mack. The name of 
Capt. David Donohoe, who commanded 
a vessel, the property of the Massachu- 
setts Bay in the Louisburg cam- 
paign, has frequent mention in the 
colonial state and town records of New 
Hampshire and Massachusetts. As his 
name indicates, he was a pure " Scotch- 
man of Saxon lineage," from Clare. 

Among the proprietors of Roches- 
ter, in 1722, were John Kenny, John 
Hays, John McDuffee, Benjamin Pen- 
der, John Barnes, and Hugh Connor. 
Among the Eevolutionary soldiers were 
Col. John McDuffee, David Mcl^^eal, 
James Coleman, William McNeal. 
Col. MeDuffee's parents came from Ire- 

In Salisbury among its first settlers 
were Archibald Dunlap, who came 
from the south of Ireland, and Edward 
Evans, who came from Sligo in the 
west of Ireland. He was a school 
teacher, for a time General Sullivan's 
secretary, and adjutant of the Second 
N. H. regiment. He died in Salisbury 
in 1818. Israel Kelly, who came from 
Newbury, Mass., was, in his day, one of 
the most prominent men in the town. 

The historian of Sanbornton quotes 
Cicero. " The first rule of history is 
that an historian shall not dare to ad- 
vance a falsity; the next, that there is 
no truth but what he shall dare to tell." 
How many historians are there who 
comply with this rule? If all dared 
to there would be many Irish in Xew 

Hampshire before the Revolution. 
Fortunately they adopted a rule of 
their own, with the result that the 
purity of the " Scotch " blood of our 
early Irish settlers is untainted by mix- 
ture of barbaric Highlanders or rude 
Celt, a la McClintoclc. 

Andrew Rowan was one of Sanborn- 
ton's three first settlers in 1765. It is 
one of the best known south of Ire- 
land Scotch names. Others following 
were Daniel Lary, Edward Kelly, John 
Lary, James Lary, John Eowan, Dan- 
iel Kelly, James O'Connor, and his 
brother, — all came here from Ireland 
before the Eevolutionary War. James 
O'Connor was a surgeon in the Conti- 
nental army. His son, Jeremiah Con- 
ner, came from Eaymond to Sanborn- 
ton in 1788. He dropped the 0' from 
his name, which made him a Scotch- 
man, " pure and simple." 

John Dalton came there from Ire- 
land in 1793. Dennis Donovan also 
came from Ireland to Chester. His 
son, James Donovan, came to Sanborn- 
ton in 1800. Both he and Dalton 
served in the Eevolutionary War. 

Lawrence Dowling was teaching 
school in Stratham before the Eevolu- 
tion. Colonel Scammon of that town 
has written that he was an Irishman, 
This, of course, is an error, as all the 
Irish in those early days in New 
Hampshire were pure Scotch Anglo- 
Saxons. Hugh Conner was in Somers- 
worth in 1749. 

Charles Annis, who was born in 
" Enniskillen in Great Britain," furn- 
ished Warner with its first settler in 
the person of his grandson, who came 
to the town in 1762. It has always 
been supposed that Enniskillen was in 
Ireland, but the historian of Warner, 
having written that it is in Great 



Britain, his theory must be accepted 
regardless of the ^ad that it is in Ire- 
land. This is unji;st to the loyal 
Scotch of Ireland who have for several 
hundred years danced to the rollicking 
air of " The Enniskillen Dragoon/' 
Daniel Flood came to Warner in 1763, 
and Eev. William Kelly preached there 
in 1774. 

The history of Windham makes 
mention of a Eev. Edward Fitzgerald, 
who was pastor of a church in Worces- 
ter in 1740 or thereabouts; as his name 
indicates, he was a Scotchman, pure 
and simple, sprung from one of the 
Highland clans which Scott neglected 
to mention in any of his works. 

" The wizard of the north " had not 
read any of our New Hampshire town 
histories relating to the pure Scotch 
from Ireland, hence his omission is 
pardonable. Among the pure Scotch 
residents of this town in its early days 
were Thomas Quigley, John Kaille, 
John Morrow, Eichard Kenney, David 
Nevins, John McConnell, Jeffrey Mc- 
Donagh, James McLaughlan. The 
historian of this town, who is of Scotch 
blood, pure and simple, and whose 
name, in its Gaelic form without the 
Mac, was borne by the first Christian 
king of Ireland, alludes to a Jeremiah 
O'Brien, who was one of four trusty 
men selected by John Hancock to con- 
vey a sum of money to certain points 
of safety during the Eevolutionary 
War. His nationality is not given. 
It is not necessary, for the name indi- 
cates it. It is stalwart Scotch. Jere- 
miah was perhaps one of the celebrated 
sons of old Maurice O'Brien, who came 
to Maine from the Scotch part of Cork 
in 1760 or thereabouts. William 
O'Brien, the youngest son of old Mau- 
rice, was the maternal grandfather of 

the Hon. John P. Hale. With the 
blood of the Scotch O'Brien in his 
veins, it was no wonder that Hale had 
courage and eloquence. 

John Haley was in Washington in 
1778. He is classed as of English de- 
scent, but the name indicates that he 
was a Tipperary Scotchman from 

The historian of Weare wrote that 
an " Irish schoolmaster named Dono- 
van " taught a grammar school in that 
town in 1773, and was engaged in the 
same profession later in New Boston. 
He also said that he was Judge Jere- 
miah Smith's Latin teacher. In class- 
ing Donovan as an Irishman, the his- 
torian falls into the common error. 
The name denotes that he came from 
the Scotch part of Blarney, in the 
Scotch part of Cork, in the Scotch part 
of Munster. 

Other Scotchmen, as their names in- 
dicate, in Weare before the Eevolu- 
tion, were Banjamin Connor, John 
Quigley, Michael Lyons, David Bryant, 
Daniel Flood, James Flood, Col. Moses 
Kelly, and Dr. Langley Kelly. 

Little, the historian, quotes a verse 
written in 1737 to celebrate the at- 
tempt to run out the line between New 
Hampshire and Massachusetts. It is 
inserted here for correction: 

" Dear Paddy, you ne'er did behold 

such a sight 
As yesterday mornin' was seen before 

You in all your born days saw. 
Nor I didn't neither. 
So many fine horses and men ride 


At the head the lower house trotted 
two in a row. 


Then all the higher house pranced one of the disciples of St. Columba on 

after the low. the island of lona. He wrote a life of 

Then the Governor's coach galloped the great saint, which is considered by 

on like the wind Pinkerton as the most valuable bio- 

And the last that came forward were graphy of ancient times. His original 

troopers behind. ancestor was in the second-hand fruit 

But I fear it means no good to your business in Asia some six thousand 

neck or mine, years ago, which is the best evidence of 

For they say 'tis to fix a right place his Scotch descent. The founder of 

for the line." the Adams family, in modern parlance, 

had a soft snap, but by foolishly ex- 

The correction spoken of is to sub- changing his judgment for that of his 

stitute the good old Scotch name of business partner of the other sex, he 

" Sandy " for the common Irish name lost it. 

of " Paddy " in the first line. It is In Gilmore's roll of New Hampshire 

proper in " The wearing of the green," men at Bunker Hill appear the fol- 

but most decidedly inappropriate in a lowing characteristic Scotch names 

Scotch poem written in New Hamp- from Ireland: Timothy Ahern, Eob- 

shire in 1737. ert Burke, John Burns, James Burns, 

Sa to follow the rule laid down by Andrew Butler, Michael Brown, John 
the historian of the Morrison family, Casey, Jeremiah Conner, Eliphalet 
who wrote that although all European Conner, Joseph Conner, John Calla- 
authorities when alluding to the an- ban, Moses Conner, Eobert Cunning- 
cient Gaels styled them Irish, ne ham, Kichard Coughlan, Daniel Col- 
should thereafter call them Scotch lins, Samuel Conroy, Timothy Carney, 
Highlanders. In the same sense wher- Eobert Darrah, Edward Evans, Luke 
ever the name " Irish," or " Paddy, ' Egan, Eichard Flood, Patrick Flynn, 
appears in the early records of New Joseph Grace, John Griffin, Samuel 
Hampshire, writers should substitute Healey, Eichard Hughes, Samuel 
therefor the name of " Scotch," or Kelly, Moses Kelly, James Lyons, 
" Sandy." In those ancient days, the David Lawler, John McClary, George 
Scots of Ireland, or of the Highlands, McMurphy, Andrew McClary, Stephen 
were not so well posted as to their Larrabee, Eobert McMurphy, William 
origin as are their New Hampshire de- McMurphy, William Moore, Michael 
scendants two hundred years later. McClary, Andrew McGaffey, Neil Mc- 

The Weare historian. Little, wrote Gaffey, Moses McConnell, James Mc- 

that another Irish schoolmaster, named Coy, Charles McCoy, Daniel McNeil, 

Eichard Adams, was in Weare during William Mitchell, Josiah Meloon (Ma- 

the Eevolution. He was styled a lone), John Manahan, Charles McCarty, 

" successful teacher." He went to Timothy Martin, Thomas McLaugh- 

Canada later where he died at a great Ian, Hugh Matthews, Thomas Mc- 

age. For Irish substitute Scotch, so Clary, David McQuig, Patrick Murphy, 

as to correct Little's error. John McGinnis, John McMichael, 

A namesake of his, known in his- Samuel McMasters, James McConnor, 

tory as Adamnan, or little Adam, was David McClarj^, Daniel McGrath, John 



Nealey, John O'lSTeil, William Nevins, 
Francis Powers, Thomas Eoach, John 
Eyan, "William Shannon, Thomas 
Welch, Dennis Woods, Valentine Sul- 

John Butler came to Pelham from 
Woburn, Mass., in 1721. His father, 
James Butler, " from Ireland," was in 
the latter town as early as 1676. He 
is given mention in Vol. 2, Collection 
New England Genealogical and His- 
torical society. One of Cromwell's ex- 
iles undoubtedly, from Kilkenny, 
which was the stronghold of the But- 
lers. The Butlers came from France 
originally. There is, therefore, no 
question about their Scotch origin. 

George Shannon, the first of the 
name to come to New Hampshire, it is 
stated, was a brother of Sir Eobert 
Shannon, lord-mayor of Dublin. He 
came to New Hampshire about the 
middle of the seventeenth century. 
He bore the same name as that borne 
by the great Scotch river Shannon, in 
the Scotch parts of Munster and Con- 

Dr. Thaddeus MacCarty, who was 
born in Worcester in 1747, was a medi- 
cal practitioner in Keene for a time. 
His was a noted family in the early 
days of Boston. His immediate pater- 
nal ancestors were Eev. Thaddeus Mac- 
Carty, for thirty-seven years pastor of 
the First Congregational church in 
Worcester. Capt. William MacCarty, 
a noted shipmaster of Boston, Florence 
MacCarty, one of Boston's first busi- 
ness men, in 1676, and Thaddeus Mac- 
Carty, the immigrant. 

A brother of Dr. MacCarty, Capt. 
William MacCarty, was quartermaster 
of Colonel Bigelow's Massachusetts 
regiment in the Continental army. 
The family undoubtedly sprang from 

the great Scotch clan of the Mac- 
Carty 's of the Highlands of Cork, and 
in consequence are Scotch, pure and 
simple, with no commingling in blood 
with the " mere " Irish. 

Laoghaire McNeill was king of Ire- 
land in 430, the year St. Patrick began 
his mission there. Translated into 
English, Laoghaire would become 
Leary. One of his name in New 
Hampshire who won prominence in 
the War of 1812, was Gen. John Mc- 
Neill. He was surveyor of the port of 
Boston under the administration of 
Andrew Jackson. While a resident of 
the Hub he became a member of the 
Charitable Irish society, which is evi- 
dence that he was of pure Scotch blood, 
probably from the Scotch part of 
Tara's Hall, immortalized by Moore, 
the Scotch-Irish bard of Erin. 

The death of Mrs. Mary Poindexter 
O'Brien, which was printed recently 
in the d^ily papers in this year of our 
Lord 1902, is evidence of the mixture 
of bloods in our own day between the 
American of English descent and the 
American of Scotch descent by way of 
Ireland. She was a native of Dover 
(N. H.). Her first husband was Capt. 
John Eiley, a namesake of Antrim's 
first Scotch settler, Philip Eiley. That 
she loved the Scotch of pure blood from 
Ireland is evident from her second 
choice, John O'Brien, who was a mil- 
lionaire banker of New York. As 
their names denote, both were Scotch 
from the daisy-clad hills of Clare, or 
Kildare, historic Scotch localities in 

The name Patrick is derived from 
the Latin Patricius, which is akin to 
Patrician. According to Plutarch in 
his life of Eomulus, the first inhabi- 
tants of the Eternal Citv were divided 



into two classes. Those who could 
trace their paternity were styled Pa- 
tricians, — all others were called Ple- 
beians. From this it will be seen that 
the origin of the name Patrick is not 
ignoble, for in those old days it meant 
the man who knew his own father. 
Hence, probably, the adage, that " It 
is a wise child that knows its own 

This name Patrick, with Cornelius, 
and Dennis, are common given names 
among the Catholic Irish, and have 
been from the time they became con- 
verts to Christianity. They were not 
uncommon in New Hampshire before 
the Eevolution as the following lists 
show. They are copied from the pro- 
vincial and state records: Michael 
Fitzgerald, Michael Dwyer, Michael 
Johnson, Michael Carroll, Michael 
Annis, Michael Clarke, Michael Grant, 
Michael Haley, Michael Hayes, Michael 
Kelly, Michael Lyons, Michael Logan, 
Michael Metcalf, Michael Metcalf, Jr., 
Michael Smith, Michael Butler. 

Dennis Callahan, Dennis Andrews, 
Dennis Haley, Dennis Bohonnon, Den- 
nis McLane, Dennis Johnson, Dennis 
Sullivan, Dennis Pendergast, Dennis 
Woods, Dennis McLaughlan, Dennis 

Cornelius Connor, Cornelius Dris- 
•coll, Cornelius Lary, Cornelius Dunsey, 
Cornelius Duffee, Cornelius Danley, 
Cornelius Kirby, Cornelius Eoberts, 
Cornelius Cornell, Cornelius White, 
Cornelius Cady, Cornelius Culnon, 
Cornelius ISTeill. 

Patrick Bourn, Patrick Burns, Pat- 
rick Campbell, Patrick Cogan, Pat- 
rick Clark, Patrick Bonner, Patrick 
Douglass, Patrick Donnell, Patrick 
Field, Patrick Furness, Patrick 
O'Flynn, Patrick Fisher, Patrick Fas- 

sett, Patrick Gault, Patrick Guinlan, 
Patrick Grimes, Patrick Henry, Pat- 
rick Jameson, Patrick Kinelty, Patrick 
Larkin, Patrick Lieless, Patrick Mc- 
Donnell, Patrick Kennedy, Patrick Mc- 
Murphj^, Patrick Cavanaugh, Patrick 
Furlong, Patrick Madden, Patrick Mc- 
Gee, Patrick McGrath, Patrick Mc- 
Laughlin, Patrick McMitchell, Patrick 
Moore, Patrick McCutchin, Patrick 
Murray, Patrick Murphy (1), Patrick 
Murphy (2), Patrick Markham, Pat- 
rick Garvin, Patrick Tobin, Patrick 
Melvin, Patrick Landrigal, Patrick 
Eoach, Patrick Tobeyne, Patrick 
Greing, Patrick Taggart, Patrick 
Strafon, Patrick Jennison, Patrick 
Manning, Patrick Smith, Patrick Far- 
rell, Patrick Doherty, Patrick White, 
Patrick Burt, Patrick McKey, Patrick 
Pebbles, Patrick Thatcher, Patrick Orr, 
Patrick Griffin, Patrick Bradshaw. 

Michael Brown, Michael Carew, 
Michael Dalton, Michael Doherty, 
Michael Davis, Michael Doran, 
Michael Gordon, Michael Gilman, 
Michael Haley, Michael Heffron, 
Michael Hilands, Michael Hicks, 
Michael Keef, Michael Manning, 
Michael Lannon, Michael Ludden, 
Michael Looney, Michael Larney, 
Michael Martin, Michael McClary, 
Michael Mann, Michael Miles, Michael 
McClintock, Michael Mitchell, Michael 
Poore, Michael Quinn, Michael Park, 
Michael Eeade, Michael Eyan, Michael 
Traynor, Michael Troy, Michael Silk, 
Michael Ward, Michael Johnson, 
Michael French, Michael Butler, 
]\Iichael Dunning, Michael Duff, 
Michael Farley, Michael Perry. 

The reader can see from the char- 
acter of the foregoing names what a 
debt is due to the early settlers of pure, 
unmixed Scotch blood from Ireland. 


By George Bancroft Griffith. 

The old fence, brown and homely, has its tangle of sweet bloom 

That now rings with summer gladness, — there is not one hint of gloom. 

The bobolink's full roundelav is all of summer time. 

The bees amidst the buckwheat throng, for June is in its prime. 

The fresh and sparkling meadow-brook slips, singing, gaily by. 

And all too soon the golden sun sinks down the western sky. 


By Minnie L. Randall. 

HIS place is owned by one 
Brooklyn's wealthiest 


citizens, whose ever hur- 
rying business interests 
afford him little time to 
visit his many estates, or to become 
acquainted with their manifold natural 

This farm is worthy a tenant who 
would beautify and adorn the place, as 
its condition, situation, and natural 
surroundings are such that it might be 
made a perfect Paradise with small out- 
lay and little labor. 

It is called " Grand View," and 
surely it is well named, for no grander 
view than it affords, it is believed, can 
be obtained in all New Hampshire, 
situated as it is, at the very top of one 
of the old Granite state's most mag- 
nificent mountains — a mountain so 
large, that upon its summit stretches 
acre upon acre of grass-land, orchards, 
groves, pastures, and woodland; and, 
in the midst of these, the old white 
farmhouse with green blinds — large, 
cool, and roomy, and containing within 
its walls inuch of the old-time quaint- 
ness that is fast disappearing from the 
homes of New England. 

:The big chimney is built from the 
ground; its base fifteen feet square, and 
on three sides are fireplaces, one of 
which is so large as to hold within its 

cavernous depths the time-honored old 
back-log; over whose substantial sides 
the bright flames leap joyously, their 
warmth and glow giving birth to many 
a new hope within our hearts — many 
an aspiration after better things. 

Here, too, are the crane and hooks,, 
and iron pots, the brass andirons and 
tongs; and, on one side of the fire- 
place, the immense brick oven with its 
ash-hole underneath, and the long- 
handled shovel, with which to clear 
away the coals and ashes. 

This whole room is an inspiration, 
and as we gaze we may imagine we can 
see the old Thanksgiving days of long 
ago, when beaten biscuit, rich, crusty 
brown bread, roast turkey, stuffed 
chicken, apple, pumpkin, and mince 
pies, and all the other " goodies " were 
taken from this same old oven, as the 
children and grandchildren came home 
to greet father and mother, and to eat 
with uncles and aunts and cousins the 
good old-fashioned Thanksgiving din- 

Ah! really are modern days and mod- 
ern ways the best? No! With a pic- 
ture of this old fireplace and oven, 
and the cheer of other days, I cannot 
believe that they are. 

Near the house is an immense barn, 
with its outlying sheds, yards, and 
tool-house, and here in summer the 


swallows fly in and out all day long, 
and build their nests in the high old 
rafters, brown with age, or outside be- 
neath the overhanging eaves. 

Between this, and connecting it with 
the house, is a long carriage house and 
woodshed, and over these are the corn- 
■chamber and granaries, where years 
gone by were stored big bins of wheat 
and corn and barley and rye. It is de- 
serted and empty now, save as a ven- 
turesome rat or mouse scurries across 
its dusty floor in search of old-time 

A smooth, even, grassy lawn 
■stretches along one side of the house, 
and here the air is sweet with the per- 
fume of lilacs and delicate pink and 
white roses; and not far away is an im- 
mense bed of big old-fashioned crim- 
son roses, gorgeous in coloring, sweeter 
in perfume than new-mown hay, and 
whose half-open buds, surrounded by 
their dark green leaves, no florist's hall 
can match for soul-satisfying loveli- 
ness and splendor. 

Beyond the lawn on the summit of 
a gently rising slope is a large orchard 
of apple, pear, and cherry trees, and a 
trellis, over which in autumn hang 
great clusters of pale green and purple 
grapes. Beneath the trees and on the 
slope grow luscious wild strawberries 
in profusion. 

Beyond the orchard is a grove of 
birch and maple trees, where, on sum- 
mer mornings, the air is alive with mu- 
sic from the many sweet-throated 
songsters, whose homes, containing 
their little ones, rest so securely in the 
big, swaying branches overhead. 

Pass through this grove and you are 
standing upon the summit of a hill 
beneath which, more than two hun- 
dred feet below, spreads out before 

your enraptured gaze a scene of more 
than surpassing loveliness and pastoral 

A wide valley; woodland stretching 
upward upon its further side; through 
the valley, like a long, gray ribbon, 
runs a country road, now visible, now 
disappearing round a bend, to be seen 
again as it winds its way up a rugged 
hill, upon whose side, in the ever- 
changing light, wave long rows of 
shimmering cornstalks, topped with 
their silky tassels; lower down a maple 
grove; and at its base a pretty white 
farmhouse, framed in by the green 
foliage. Xearer, the picturesque ruins 
of an old mill, and the moss-covered 
boards of the now empty milldam, 
and nearer still a sedgy brook, where 
the red kine meet and drink from its 
clear, cool depths. 

Higher up, above the old mill, is a 
pretty little sheet of water, its waves 
dancing in the morning sun, or, when 
still, reflecting with marvelous clear- 
ness the white birches and somber 
pines which line its banks. 

Further up, line upon line of round- 
topped hills, heavily wooded, and 
pretty valleys nestling between, and 
farther away upon the horizon rise the 
everlasting peaks of the White Moun- 
tain range! The Jights of a brilliant 
sunset, as seen from this point, are 
gorgeous beyond description. 

Eetracing our steps by a different 
path we come upon an oak grove, sur- 
rounded by a low stone wall, over 
which climb wild blackberry vines and 
clematis, and in springtime the ground 
here is flecked with the blossoms of the 
shy wood violet, and later on by the 
gaudier flowers of the wild red colum- 

Beneath the wide-spreading branch- 


es of these old oak trees we 
may swing our hammock upon the 
hottest summer day and he sure of a 
cool hreeze, and in this secluded spot 
one is as secure from observation and 
free from all that can molest or an- 
noy as though a hundred miles away 
in the heart of the woods. 

Passing through the grove you come 
into a field, acres and acres in extent, 
covered with tall timothy and red 
clover. Pass through this and to the 
south is one of the pastures, its green 
fields dotted here and there with wide- 
spreading maples and clumps of blue- 
berry bushes. At the lower side you 
descend a steep, wooded bank, at the 
foot of which runs a clear, sparkling 
trout-brook, and at this point are the 
ruins of an old dam, and from beneath 
its projecting stones the speckled 
beauties dart in and out. 

Cross the brook and upon the oppo- 
site bank you come upon an old wood- 
road, overgrown in places with tall, 
plumy ferns, and in others with soft, 
beautiful green moss, from whose 
depths springs wild wood-sorrel and 
the star-like blossoms of the twin- 
flower, and in other places long sprays 
of the beautiful partridge vine, with 
its smooth, round, glossy leaves, and 
scarlet berries, or velvety white blos- 

Nature has spread her beauties here 
with lavish hand, and one who is her 
lover invariably stops to rest and drink 
in with bated breath and enraptured 
soul the enchanting loveliness of the 
surrounding scene. To the right of 
the old wood road is the unbroken 
forest, whose timber in a few short 
years will represent a small fortune to 
their possessor. Follow the wood road 
and soon it will bring you on its left 

to a grove of pines, thick and dark and! 
somber; they sigh gently in the sum- 
mer breeze and invite you to rest be- 
neath their branches, where the 
ground is warm and soft with the 
accumulation of pine needles, and 
odorous with their spicy breath. 

Further on, beyond the pine grove, 
is an orchard of apple trees, with queer 
gnarled, twisted branches, looking 
strangely at variance with their cover- 
ing of pretty pink and white blossoms, 
which in springtime, with every breath 
of wind send down a shower of pearly 
petals, shedding perfume on the warm, 
balmy air, sleepy with the drone of 
humming bees. 

Looking westward from the old' 
farmhouse, and beyond the valley, is 
a rising, heavily wooded upland, its 
surface broken in places by farms, 
whose bright green fields resemble 
squares of softest green velvet, set 
against the darker foliage of the for- 
ests, and, far away, stretching to the 
horizon line, are the mountains; 
Mount Kearsarge, the most imposing, 
its summit lost in the soft summer 
haze, or in the white, fleecy clouds 
drifting idly by. 

Grand old mountain! how you tower. 

Eeaehing up for something new? 
Do you want the clouds to kiss you 

From their bed of azure hue? 
Eeach down, pearly clouds, and kiss 

With your soft and airy grace. 
And mayhap he'll slumber better 

For the touch of your white face. 

To the north stretches the valley; 
dotted with farmhouses and away in 
the distance can be clearly seen the 
square tower of the old North church 


at Belmont, its white sides gleaming Wlio could live at this beautiful 

in the morning sun. mountain farm, with such a panorama 

To the south and in the foreground of loveliness spread out before him, 

is a large pine grove, with a tiny cot- painted by the hand of Mother Na- 

tage nestling cosily amid its green, ture, and then go down into the busy 

Farther down the white tower and red- marts of men and do a mean, base, 

capped dome of the village church is sordid act? 

seen, and a mile away the sleepy lit- Why! the very air one breathes up 

tie village rests; and beyond, its waters here is an inspiration to right living, 

glistening in the morning sun, is a tiny and who would willingly coop them- 

lake, and still beyond, again rise the selves up in a city, with its dusty 

everlasting hills. The Uncanoonucs streets, hot brick walls, and its clangor 

far to the south, then a long interven- and noise, when scattered all over New 

ing range, and Kearsarge in the west, Hampshire are deserted farms, where 

and beyond, low lying mountains, ris- families of small means might live in 

ing ever higher and higher, until they peace and plenty, far from the mad-_ 

connect with the "VMiite Mountain ding strife of men, but near to Nature, 

range far to the north! and to Nature's God? 


By Louise Lewin Mattlieivs. 

A dreamy beauty haunts the distant hill. 
And all the meadows softly blurred, are still; 
From the dark wood a whip-poor-will sings clear, 
The only sound that breaks the silence near. 

Like the white clouds that float so fast above. 
My thoughts are drifting far on wings of love. 
This song my heart keeps singing, soft and sweet: 
" Come, love, to me, as day and evening meet." 

Among the scented pines our path should lie. 
And down through shaded nooks, where breezes sigh; 
And on across the fields, to where the rippling sea 
Flows gently in, and glints across the lea. 

Where the white sails nod gently in the wind 
And all the busy world is left behind, 
Oh! then how dear the twilight hours would be, 
Our deepest thoughts could mingle and be free. 

It is a fleeting dream, the day is done. 
And darkness follows close the setting sun. 
Oh! twilight visions! may some yet come true. 
Oh! dear heart! still my dreams are thoughts of you. 

By H. G. Leslie, M. D. 

Beside the path, leading down from plank seat, which, from long use by 
Captain Jared's hack door toward the him and his cronies, had become pol- 
river, and near the head of the wharf, ished smooth, like old furniture, 
stood a small building which he claimed Here on sunshiny afternoons, when 
as his own especial domicile. Here he his little plot of ground did not de- 
retired at regular intervals to smoke mand his attention, and in the long 
his pipe and meditate, undisturbed by twilight of summer evenings, he could 
Mrs. Somes' bustling activity. I do nearly always be found. I had not in- 
not think that she would have offered truded on his privacy until one morn- 
any objections to his retaining a seat ing early in July, when I awoke to 
by her kitchen fireside. If she had hear the monotonous patter of rain- 
any dislike to the pungent odor of his drops on the roof, and find the sur- 
well-seasoned pipe, she, to my knowl- face of the river covered by a blanket 
edge, never displayed it. His habit of of soft gray mist. When I went down 
seeking his own domain, in the shop to my morning repast I found the Cap- 
on the wharf, was established long be- tain officiating as cook and maid-of-all- 
fore I became a member of the family, work, Mrs. Somes, as he informed me, 
I fancy that it was the result in a cer- having been called during the night 
tain way of his many years of seafaring to attend a sick neighbor. This was 
life. no hardship, as the Captain's long cul- 

Men who follow this profession are, inary experience enabled him to pre- 

perforce, deprived of the society of pare a very tempting repast. I had 

wife and children for so large a part heard frequently of his skill in com- 

of their time that an element of soli- pounding rye pancakes, but this was 

tude becomes almost a necessity. It the first occasion when I had been al- 

is something akin to the life of an old lowed to test their toothsome merits, 

maid who becomes so accustomed to and did much to console me for the 

seeing her pin cushion undisturbed in absence of Mrs. Somes, 
one place, that when, under any cir- The dreary monotone of falling rain 

cumstances, childhood's hands remove and drifting fog, forced the conclusion 

it, it is the cause of real mental suffer- that I must spend the day under cover 

ing. It is easy to argue that all this somewhere, so, after reading a chapter 

is foolishness, but long-established cus- or two of a tame, uninteresting story, 

toms and habits are not easily up- whose prolix disquisitions and mild 

rooted. philosophy seemed to' be too much in 

On the outside of the Captain's den, accord with the dreary view from my 

nearest the river, extended a broad window, I ventured down the path, and 



tapped at the door of the shop on the 
wharf. A cheery " Come in " an- 
swered my knock, and I literally pulled 
the latch-string that always hung out. 
I found Captain Jared seated on a low 
bench working grommets in a new 
dory sail. This was evidently his de- 
vice for passing a lonesome day, as I 
knew that he had no need for a new 
sail for his boat. The whole place 
bore an air of extreme neatness; every 
rope was coiled with precision, and 
hung in place; his oars rested in racks; 
a variety of fish tackle hung along the 
Avail; mackerel jigs, tomcod hooks, as 
well as the heavy leads for deep-sea fish- 
ing, all in regular order. His barom- 
eter hung near the window and a ship's 
compass rested on a shelf nearby. On 
a rough desk lay his record book and 
register of daily happenings, appar- 
ently kept as accurately as though he 
was on a foreign voyage, a well- 
thumbed, and already dog-eared, alma- 
nac, hung from a nail near the win- 
dow, bearing on its cover the familiar 
name of Eobert B. Thomas. The 
Captain carefully folded his work, as I 
entered, and put his palm and needle 
in their accustomed place. There was 
a pleasant aromatic odor of pine tar 
coming from the balls of marlin on the 
window stool, giving a sort of shippy 
atmosphere to the place, which I could 
well imagine was agreeable to its occu- 
pant. A well preserved and carefully 
colored specimen of pipe, known as the 
" T D," was near at hand, which he 
deliberately filled. 

Much time has been devoted to the 
development of theories relating to the 
protuberances of cranial development, 
and palmistry claims to be a science of 
great antiquity; but, so far as I know, 
no one has attempted to estimate char- 

acter from the various methods of fill- 
ing and smoking a pipe. This appears 
to be a neglected field of study. Watch 
the next man you see performing this 
ceremony and you will find that he has 
certain characteristics peculiarly his 
own ■which might prove to be the basis 
of elaborate calculation. I had studied 
these peculiarities in Captain Jared's 
associates as they convened night after 
night on the bench behind the shop, 
or on the stump of the old mast at the 
head of the wharf. Captain Bill, for 
instance, would twist off two or three 
leaves of tobacco with his fingers, jam 
them into his pipe and strike a match. 
After two or three ineffectual puffs, he 
would commence a search for a broom 
corn, or spear of grass, one or two jabs, 
another trial, and then would come an 
explosion of wrath, in which he would 
consign his pipe and everything con- 
nected with it to a very tropical coun- 
try, in terms that by any means could 
never have been the scattered wreck of 
Sunday-school lessons. Xot so with 
Captain Jared. The long-stemmed, 
carefully preserved pipe was handled 
with loving care; the proper amount 
of narcotic was thinly cut and prop- 
erly rolled; the bowl carefully cleaned 
out; then, after a preliminary puff to 
see if it was clear, the process of pack- 
ing proceeded, with great exactness. 
There w^as no hurry, no mistakes, and 
the result was always satisfactory. 
After the pungent smoke wreaths were 
floating in the air, the dormant spirit 
of loquacity and reminiscence seemed 
to be aroused. 

It is as much a science to be a good 
listener as it is to have command of 
language. All the theories of electri- 
cal transmission are modern, but, long 
before their day, was an imnamed 



principle by which thought waves of 
common interest were conveyed from 
one to another, without the use of lan- 

There is a good story told of a dear 
old Southern colonel, whose volubility 
and delight in the sound of his own 
voice was so evident as to make him the 
subject of many jokes by his associates. 
One day the members of his club, see- 
ing him come up the street, decided 
that no one should speak a word while 
he was in the room and see what the 
result would be. He came in cheery 
and smiling, " A delightful day, gen- 
tlemen! delightful! it reminds me of 
the time when I visited my friend. 
Major Bragg of Georgia. I think I 
have never told you of the incidents of 
that trip." He rambled on from one 
event to another, pausing now and 
then to laugh over some amusing epi- 
sode, for two hours, when on looking 
at his watch he sprang to his feet, say- 
ing, " Ah, really, gentlemen, I have 
been so entertained that I did not real- 
ize the flight of time, and as I, ah, have 
an engagement, I beg you will excuse 
me and we will continue this delight- 
ful seance at some future time," and 
bowed himself out, not noticing that 
no one had spoken a word since he 

Eemembering this anecdote, al- 
though Captain Somes had none of 
the excessive talkativeness of the 
Southern gentleman, whenever he re- 
curred to the incidents and events of 
his earlier life I played the part of a 
good listener without interruption. 

On this occasion, I presume the ab- 
sence of Mrs. Somes, on her sister of 
charity-like mission, stirred the quaint 
flavor of his recollections, and gave 
them som-ewhat of a medical bent. 

" You know the great three-story 
house where John Henry Smith lives. 
Well, along in the fifties, about the 
time the Fox sisters were publishing 
their wonderful experiences in raps, 
table tipping, and spook demonstra- 
tions in general, old Captain Haskell 
and his wife lived there. 

" Men who go to sea all their lives 
run up against some funny experiences. 
If a man has any superstition about 
him, he can see and hear a lot of 
strange things when he is standing 
watch alone any foggy night. 

" Whether it was the superstitious 
element or whether it started with 
Marni Haskell, I never knew. They 
took hold of it though ranker than a 
twenty-pound cod off Boone Island 
ledges, and the old house soon became 
the headquarters of all that dissatisfied, 
restless class who are continually look- 
ing for some new disclosure or especial 
revelation to fit their needs. They are 
the kind who are always telling about 
having outgrown the Bible, and need- 
ing a new revelation to keep up with 
modern ideas. It's about all I can do 
to work out my days, sailing with dead 
reckoning, without going into the new 
fangled ways of getting at it. As I 
was saying, they gathered around 
there like bees around a leaky cask of 
old Porto Eico. The old house was a 
tavern once, and in the third story, 
under the roof, was a dance hall the 
whole length. Here they held their 
meetings — Nathan Bostick and Euth 
Ann, George Pingree and his wife. 
Uncle Sammy Small and his wife, and 
I don't know how many more. They 
used to meet almost every night for a 
sitting, as they called it. They 
thought the spirits would come better, 
or feel more at home, if the air was full 


of music — a sort of golden harp con- There were some things, however, 
dition, so Marm Haskell went down to which she did bring with her, and 
the city and bought a great big hand among them, was an unblushing cheek, 
organ, at a second hand furniture store, and an ability to run her tongue faster 
It wasn't set for religious services, and more untiringly than any woman 
Some of the tunes were " Pop goes the brought up in this vicinity, which is 
Weasel," " Money Musk," and so on, saying a good deal, 
but Marm Haskell allowed the spirits " She wanted to establish a society 
wouldn't know the difference if you called ' The Children of the Great 
turned the crank slow enough. They Unknowable Think.' According to 
would all sit around a cross-legged her doctrine, it was the thinking ma- 
table with theii; hands in a circle, and chine of the world that was out  of 
all the lights but one little talloAV dip gear. Her especial mission was to 
turned out. Marm Haskell would pour the oil of Christian love on the 
start up the Italian piano, and you can cog wheels. Sophia Araminta said 
bet it was a solemn occasion. Bye and that if your thinking machine was all 
bye the taps would come and the Cap- right, you could eat green apples or 
tain would take a stick and point to broken glass without a twinge of pain, 
some letters on the wall. When he under your jacket, because you didn't 
struck the right one the spirits would ache if yon didn't think so. She 
rap, and in this way they spelled out would prance up and down the hall and 
the messages from iSToah to Ninevah. talk about her nearness to the Great 
One night the invisibles tapped out the Oneness and the social affinity of souls 
order " Paint this hall " and Marm that basked in the light of purity. 
Haskell got some paint and brushes. This went on swimmingly for awhile 
and under their direction, decorated and seemed to fit in Avith the spirit 
the room. They were spirit pictures rappings like an ell to a meeting- 
■udthout the slightest question, for house. By and by she seemed to 
nothing like them was ever seen before get her wings like a new hatched but- 
this side of the grave. I'll get you a terfly and strike out for herself with 
chance to see for yourself, for some more of the affinity business and less 
are still left. of the spirit manifestations, until it 
" Well, things went on this way for began to be whispered that Sophia 
quite a time and everybody was talking Araminta was not exactly a white dove 
about the goings-on at Captain Has- from Paradise, but just a frail human 
kell's. One day a new element blew being. When the Captain suspected 
in on them from no one knows where, that she was having too much of an 
in the person of Sophia Araminta affinity for his son-in-law, Hiram, there 
Bangs. She said that she came from was no end of a disturbance, and she 
somewhere down in Maine, and was a got an invitation to pack up her be- 
disciple of one Dr. Quincy, who had longings and light out. She didn't go 
sent her out to convert the world to a great ways; just moved up to Esquire 
his peculiar doctrines. In one respect Bascomb's, and started a sort of kinder- 
at least she was like the disciples of garten school of religious philosophy, 
old, for she had neither staff or script. " Some people think that the planets 



are worlds like ours, and that we Just well he can't seem to appreciate it any 
move from one to the other as chil- sort of a way. I have tried to imagine 
dren go from one grade of school to how it would feel to have a pain in my 
the next. If this is so I think that the stomach, but it is beyond me. I was 
Lord must have called Sophia Ara- oil the Capes of Delaware once, bound 
minta to Venus, for it shines with that home with a cargo of old Jamaica, 
same pale, pure light that she was al- when, along in the night, some one re- 
ways talking about. Aunt Betty ported that the nigger cook was sick, 
Wardwell is one of her followers, and, and I went forward. There he lay in 
under ordinary circumstances, she will his bunk, groaning and screaming with 
not admit that there is any such thing pain. He said that he should die, and 
as sickness or pain in the world; just I thought he would. I hadn't a drop 
imagination, she will say, but you let of medicine on that hooker. Some- 
her eat an ear of corn that is too hard thing had got to be done right quick, 
to digest, or a mackerel that the moon I went down in the cabin and looked 
has shone on, and she will send for around, there wasn't even a bottle of 
Mrs. -Somes with her catnip and penny- pepper sauce there; only a bottle of 
royal as quick as anybody. ink. He had got to have something. 

" I will bet you a coolde that if she I mixed up the writing fluid in a tum- 

is not better this morning you will see bier of sweetened water, and gave him 

Dr.. Gale's old chaise and stripe-faced the whole of it, thinking all the time 

mare going down street before noon, that if he died, no one would be any 

The doctor will go in and say, 'The the wiser for the dose was just the same 

davil, the davil, Mrs. AYardwell! "What color as the nigger. By jiminy hill! 

have you been doing now, dem it?' and In a half hour he was all right. I 

deal out a few little sugar pellets, to would give something to know if that 

be taken with great exactness; tell one ink was good medicine or whether he 

or two funny stories and go home. I just thought he would get well and 

don't know whether the doctor's mild did." 

profanity acts like a counter-irritant on The Captain rapped the ashes from 
a Baptist chiirch member, or not, but his pipe, which had long since gone 
she generally gets better without any out, and went to the door. The rain 
more trouble. If she don't the next had ceased falling. He wet his finger 
move is to send for old calomel and and held it up in the air. " Yes," said 
turpentine. Then business will com- he, the wind is coming round no'west 
mence in earnest; jalup and blister, and we shall have a pleasant after- 
there is no playing at that stage of the noon." Almost as he spoke, the spires 
game. It takes all sorts of people to of the pines at the Laurels peered 
make the world! Now there's Skipper through the soft, rolling masses of 
Nat and Eube and Mose and Pardner mist, already stirred by the first breath 
and Skipper Panson and I; when we of a changing wind, and a pale shaft 
want anything we want calomel, and of light shot from the breaking clouds 
we generally get it when Dr. Balch is and rested on Pipe Stave hill — the 
around. promise that his prediction would be 

" This idea of sickness is quite a verified, 
mystery after all. TMien a man is 


By Charles Henry Chesley. 

Over the meadows and down to the bay 
The grass billows sweep with a rhythmic sway, 
Down and a-down to the inswelling tide, 
Like mighty war legions that fearlessly ride. 

The pipe of the sanderling, whistle of quail. 
The bobolink's lilt, a musical trail. 
And swish of the waters far down on the dune 
Ee-echo and echo all blent in one tune. 

The tall daisies bend, back, forward and o'er, 

And kiss the hairbells growing down b}' the shore; 

The clover blooms welcome the hurrying bee, 

And butterflies flit o'er the blossoming sea. 

Away and away speed the billows, away, 
A-tremble and tumble a-down to the bay, 
Bourne on by the breeze to the inswelling tide. 
Like mighty war hosts that triumphantly ride. 


William Cant Sturoc, born in Arbroath, Farfarshire, Scotland, November 4, 
1822, died in Sunapee, June i, 1903. 

Mr. Sturoc was the ninth of the ten children of Francis and Ann (Cant) Sturoc, 
and inherited marked intellectual power from his ancestry on both sides, his poetic 
nature, which ultimately became strongly developed, being undoubtedly a heritage 
from his great grandfather, James Sturoc, who was the author of a book of 
*' Hymns and Spiritual Songs." 

Soon after attaining his majority Mr. Sturoc came to America, making his 
home for a few years in Montreal, where, while engaged in mechanical pursuits, he 
attended a literary and scientific institute during the evening, attaining a good 
knowledge of modern science and language. Becoming acquainted with Mr. 
W. W. Eastman of Sunapee, he was induced to visit that town, on the western 
shore of the charming lake of the same name, and was charmed with the wonder- 
ful beauty of the scenery. While on this visit he was favored with an introduction 
to that distinguished lawyer and cultured gentleman, the late Hon. Edmund 
Burke of Newport, and by him induced to enter upon the study of the law, which 


he subsequently pursued in Mr. Burke's office, and, in 1855, was admitted to the 
bar and established himself in practice in Sunapee, where he remained through 
life, devoting himself in his later years to agricultural pursuits, reading, and study, 
always keeping abreast with the current of modern thought, and not unfrequently 
indulging in poetic fancies, which sometimes found their way into print, always to 
the delight of the reader. 

Mr. Sturoc took an active part in public life during the first two decades of his 
residence here. He became an earnest adherent of the principles of the Demo- 
cratic party and championed the same effectively on the stump in many campaigns. 
He represented the town of Sunapee in the legislature in 1865, '66, '67, '68, and 
was among the leaders on the Democratic side of the house, being at one time the 
candidate of his party for speaker. He was prominent in committee work and in 
the state conventions of his party, and his ringing impromptu speeches were heard 
with delight by his associates on these occasions. In recent years, however, he 
had taken little part in politics, and after the death of his wife, Sarah C. Chase, 
whom he married December 12, 1856, and who died February 9, 1889, he with- 
drew more and more from public and social life, but always cordially greeted his 
friends, who found him the same earnest, honest, truth-loving, sham-despising 
spirit, even to the very last. 

Mr. Sturoc was better known as the " Bard of Sunapee " than by any other 
cognomen, and many poetic gems of rare merit, the productions of his pen, have 
become a part of our New Hampshire literature, some of which have adorned the 
pages of The Granite Monthly. 


Rev. Jacob Chapman, the oldest graduate of Phillips Exeter academy and of 
Dartmouth college, died in Exeter, Friday, June 5. 

He was born at Tamworth, March 11, 1810, the first of five children of Samuel 
and Elizabeth (Smith) Chapman. In 1827 he entered Phillips Exeter academy, 
graduated from Dartmouth college in 1835, and from the Andover Theological 
seminary in 1839. -^^ became a successful teacher, first in Maine, and for nine 
years in Pennsylvania ; then entered the ministry, and for twelve years was pastor 
in Marshall, 111. Afterward he became professor in a female college at Terre 
Haute, Ind. 

Returning in 1865 to New Hampshire, he preached at Deerfield until 1872, and 
then at Kingston, where he remained until his retirement in 1879. Mr. Chapman 
then removed to Exeter, where he took up historical and genealogical research. 

His published works include " Edward Chapman and Descendants," " The 

Folsom Genealogy," " Thomas Philbrick and His Descendants," " Leonard Weeks 

and His Descendants," and the first volume of the " Lane Genealogies." He had 

also written much for the press. He was married twice, and a widow survives 



Rev. Leonard Stickney Parker, retired assistant pastor of the Shepard Memo- 
rial church of Cambridge, Mass., died at his home in that city, Saturday, May 3, 


Dr. Parker was a native of the town of Dunbarton, born December 12, 18 12. 
He was educated at Hopkinton and Hampton academies, the Boston Latin school, 
Dartmouth college, and the Theological seminary at Oberlin, O. He was ordained 
to the ministry, and first settled at Mansfield, O., where the late Hon. John Sher- 
man was a scholar in his Sunday-school. He subsequently held pastorates at 
Providence, R. I., and in several Massachusetts towns, but located at the home of 
a daughter in Cambridge, in 1886, where he soon became the assistant of Dr. 
McKenzie in the Shepard Memorial church pastorate. His wife, who was a 
daughter of the late Sherburne Blake of Exeter, died April 28, 1903. Four 
children — a son in the West, and three daughters in Cambridge, survive. 


John Ward Pettengill, judge of the First Eastern Middlesex district court, died 
at his home in Maiden, Mass., May 22, 1903. 

Judge Pettengill was a native of the town of Salisbury in this state, a son of 
Benjamin and Betsey Pettengill, born November 12, 1836. He was a lineal 
descendant of Richard Pettengill, a Puritan leader, who came from Straffordshire, 
England, in 1628, and settled at Salem, Mass. He was educated at Salisbury, 
Northfield, and Hopkinton academies, and Dartmouth college, was a member of 
the staff of the Independent Democrat \n Concord in 1856, and studied law here 
with Judge Asa Fowler, continuing his studies with Griffin & Boardman of Charles- 
town, Mass., being admitted to the Suffolk county bar in 1859. -^^ served gal- 
lantly in the Union army during the Rebellion, and afterward entered upon law 
practice in Boston. 

In 1870 he was appointed a special justice at the Charlestown police court, and 
four years later was made justice of the First district court of Eastern Middlesex 
county, sitting in Maiden, with jurisdiction in Maiden, Melrose, Wakefield, North 
Reading, Everett, and Medford. He was an ardent Republican, and often actively 
engaged upon the stump in the party service. He was trustee of the Maiden pub- 
lic librarj' for several years, president of the Maiden board of trade, a member of 
the Middlesex, New Hampshire, and Kernwood clubs, and also one of the lead- 
ing orators of the Maiden Deliberative assembly. 

He was married three times. His first wife was Miss Margaret Marie Dennett 
of Watertown, Mass., his second. Miss Emma Tilton of Greenland, and his third 
wife, who survives him, was Mrs. Annette Boyce of Maiden, Mass. Besides his 
widow, one son and a daughter survive him, John Tilton Pettengill of Maiden and 
Mrs. Margaret Betsey Pettengill of Philadelphia. 


Harvey A. Whiting, the leading business man, and one of the most prominent 
and respected citizens, of Wilton, died at Pasadena, Cal., May 29. 

Mr. Whiting was a native of Fitchburg, Mass., a son of David and Emma 
(Spaulding) Whiting, born October 27, 1833. In his youth his parents removed 
to Wilton, where his father became prominent in business and town affairs, estab- 
lishing an extensive business as a milk contractor for the Boston Market, in which 
.Harvey A. and George O., another son, became associated under the name of 


D. Whiting & Sons, the deceased being the senior member of the firm at the time 
of his death. 

He married, September 20, 1855, Mary E. Kimball, who survives him, with five 
sons and one daughter. 


Jeremiah A. Farrington, general purchasing agent of the Boston & Maine 
railroad, died at his home in Portsmouth, May 1 1, after a long illness. 

Mr. Farrington was a native of the town of Conway, born June 19, 1843. He 
commenced active life as a civil engineer, but subsequently became superintendent 
of the Portsmouth Machine Co., but soon afterward entered upon the position in 
the service of the railroad, which he held till death. He was strongly interested 
in the material welfare of his adopted city, was consulting engineer of the Ports- 
mouth water-works, a director of the Cottage hospital, and the Agamenticus water- 
works. He is survived by a widow, two sons, and two daughters, one of the for- 
mer being Dr. L. M. Farrington of Rochester. 


Andrew George Booth, a prominent lawyer of San Francisco, Cal., died at his 
home in that city, June 10. 

Mr. Booth was a native of the town of Goshen, born June 4, 1846. He gradu- 
ated from Kimball Union academy at Meriden in 1866, spent three years at 
Amherst college, studied law, and settled in practice in San Francisco, where he 
ever after remained, attaining great success at the bar. He served in the Califor- 
nia legislature, as a presidential elector, and as a trustee of the state library. At 
the time of his decease he was president of the Union League club of San Fran- 
cisco. He was also a prominent member of the Masonic order. 

He married Laura D. Aldrich of Woodstock, Vt., also a Kimball Union gradu- 
ate, who survives him, as do two sisters, Mrs. George W. Nourse of Newport, and 
Miss E. E. Booth, a member of the faculty of the University of the Pacific, at San 
Jose, Cal. 


Edward Bellows, a native of Newport, R. I., born April 28, 1840, who removed, 
in early life, with his parents. Rev. John and Mary (Nichols) Bellows, to the town 
of Walpole in this state, where he had since made his home, died there May 20, 

On the breaking out of the Rebellion Mr. Bellows enlisted in the Eighth New 
York volunteers, serving three months. June 11, 1862, he was appointed assistant 
paymaster in the navy, serving with Commodore Wilkes in the North and South 
Atlantic squadrons, and rising to the highest rank in his branch of the service. 
He was pay officer of the Pacific squadron on the Balthnore at the time of the bat- 
tle of Manila Bay, and present in that battle, but retired from service April 28, 

He married Susan Emily, daughter of William Henry Jones of San Francisco, 
in 1873, who survives him. 


The Granite Monthly. 

Vol. XXXV 

AUGUST, 1903. 

No. 2. 


Bii A. r]ics{rr Clnrl-. 

Tlie glory of an American state is 
its citizenshij); and Xew Hampshire's 
glory yet remains to her. Despite her 
signal contributions to the uphnilding 
of those magnificent prairie common- 
^A•ealths which are at once the admira- 
tion and the despair of all colonizing 
peoples, and despite the swelling and 
generous stream of her life, ever flow- 
ing southward with her rivers, to en- 
rich and vitalize the civic fiber of her 
nearer neighbors in the sisterhood of 
states — despite all these, Xew Hamp- 
shire's fount of splendid citizenship is 
far from empty; for not only has she 
still those eternal springs of the na- 
tional life — the rural communities — 
undiminished in vigor and now pul- 
sating with new currents, but she has 
also received from others in hardly less 
generous measure than she has given. 

Of those, not to the manor born, 
but whose training and activities are 
so essentially of and for her own as to 
dim the recollection of the mere 
chance of birth, Xcm- Hampshire 
counts the Ho]i. John McLane of Mil- 
ford, who, born in Lenoxtown, Scot- 
land, February 27, 1852, has spent al- 
most his entire life among the glens 
of Xew England, a no less sturdy 
nursery of strong men than the high- 
lands of his native land. 

When their son was onlv a few 
months old ]\Ir. McLane's parents emi- 
grated to America and found a home 
in the city of Manchester, at that time 
giving ample promise of the populous 
and commanding metropolis which it 
has since become; and here the boy 
rose to manhood, attending the city 
schools so long as the means of his 
family would permit, Ijut, while yet a 
lad, setting himself to earn his own 
li-^ing l)y apprenticing himself to learn 
a trade. 

Before he could vote he was a Jour- 
neyman cabinet-maker, enjoying the 
confidence of his employer, command- 
ing good wages and sure of advance- 
ment. At the age of twenty-four he 
determined to go into business for him- 
self and, with slender capital, he made 
the hazard of new fortitnes by enter- 
ing upon the manufacture, at Milford, 
of post-office furniture and equipment. 
This Intsijiess, now grown to commen- 
surate volume with the great public 
service which it supplies, was then in 
its very inception. Up to that time 
]io post-offices, outside of the very 
largest cities, were either adequately 
housed or suitably equipped. The 
])Ost-ottice was generally considered 
the perquisite of the leading store- 
keeper of the dominant political faith. 



and it was regarded in most eoniniuni- tlie MeLane products, untii to-day, in 
ties as an asset of the mercliant rather every state in tlie Union, in the terri- 
than as the closest servant of the })eo- tories. in our insular possessions and 
pie. Its equipment varied: in some in the Dominion of Canada, may be 
instances the postmaster's hat, a salt- found, a co2ivenience at once to the 
hox or a connter-drawer served to postal service and its patrons, the out- 
house the mails; in a few instances a fits made at Milford and bearing the 
rude row of pigeon-holes, dimly glassed name of the ]\IcLane Manufacturing 
and grotesquely numbered, a trans- Co., which now carries upon 'its pay- 


Residence of Hon. John McLane, Milford, N. H. 

mittenclum from one administration to 
another, answered the purpose. These 
conditions Mr. McLane determined 
radically to change. The few patents 
then covering his line he purchased; 
to them he added improvements which 
often were the fruits of his own gen- 
ius; choice woods, better glass, im- 
proved locks, chaste designs and en- 
during solidity of construction were 
from the first the cardinal features of 

rolls the names of more than a hun- 
dred skilled workmen, is one of the 
largest industries in the town, and 
which has enjoyed not only an unin- 
terrupted prosperity but an uninter- 
rupted contentment as well, for in all 
the years of his business life Mr. Mc- 
Lane has vet to record the first differ- 
ence of any kind with the men in his 

The reason for this is apparent: him- 



self a skilled workman, Iiaviiig served 
an a]iprenticeship longer llian tliat 
iiDW imposed upon journeymen, a keen 
but just critic of material and work- 
manship, lie can take the double vicAv 
of the employer and the workman, and 
can maintain that ideal relation be- 
tween capital and labor which results 
in even-handed Justice to both in- 

As the expansion of his own busi- 
ness took place, bringing with it bet- 
ter organization and increasing reve- 
nues, Mr. McLane found himself pos- 
sessed of both the time and the means 
to extend his business interests, and he 
turned his attention to projects look- 
ing to the advancement of the com- 
munity where he had fixed his home. 
He was among the earliest to foresee 
the value of the rich deposits of gran- 
ite in the vicinity of Milford and he 
was instrumental in organizing and 
establishing the Milford Granite Co., 
in which he now holds a large stock 
interest and is a director. For man}' 
vears he has been a director and, since 
1891, the president of the Souhegan 
National bank, which, under his fos- 
tering administration, has come to 
serve a wide range of clients and ranks 
with the largest banks in the state out- 
side of the cities. He is also a director 
in the Xew Hampshire Fire Insurance 
Co., of Manchester, the oldest and 
largest of such institutions in tlie state. 

March 10, 1880, :\lr. McLane mar- 
ried Miss Ellen L. Tuck, dauohter of 
Eben Baker and Lydia (Frye) Tuck, 
and foster-daughter of the late lion. 
Clinton S. Averill of Millnrd, with 
whom she made her home. Mrs. Mc- 
Lane comes from ancient Xew England 
stock and was educated in the schools 
of Milford and at tlie ()re;id Collegiate 

institute, AVorcester, Mass. For three 
years prior io her marriage she was a 
teacher u])on the staff of the Nashua 
High school, and she has always main- 
tained a lively interest in educational 
and pliilantbro})ic work. She was one 
of the charter members of the Milford 
Woman's chib and has been its presi- 
dent; is at })resent regent of the Mil- 
ford chapter. Daughters of the Ameri- 
can Revolution; and was a member of 
the board of lady managers of the Pan- 
American exposition at Buffalo in 
1901. She is also a member of the 
auxiliary branches of the secret orders 
in wliich lier husliand holds mendjer- 
ship; and is known socially in tlie best 
circles in the principal cities of New 

Mr. and Mrs. McLane have four 
children, the oldest, Clinton Averill, a 
graduate of Harvard in the class of 
1903. The daughter of the household, 
Hazel Ellen, is preparing for college at 
Miss Baldwin's school at Bryn Mawr, 
Pennsylvania; and the second son, 
John R., just graduated from St. 
Paul's school. Concord, has matricu- 
lated at Dartmouth. The youngest, 
Charles Malcolm, a lad of eight, is at 
school in ]\Iilford. 

The McLane home in Milford is a 
spacious mansion of old-time architec- 
ture, often modernized in its appoint- 
ments and always retaining its air of 
generous hospitality which so well 
comports with the eharacter of its oc- 
cupants. Its rooms are numerous and 
spacious, and it is always the scene of 
delightful gayety, especially in vaca- 
tion time when the children of the 
household are never at home without 
a coterie of schoolmates as guests. 
The library, a delightful apartment, is 
lined with those books to which Mr. 



McLane, with the true Scot's avidity Xot the least treasured department 
for learuiiiff, lias turned himself in his of ^Ir. McLane's lil)rarv is that devoted 

hours of freedom from husiness to 
atone for tlie narrnwt'd o]>])ortunities 
for sdiuoling in his younger days, and 
its shelves are especially rich in works 
of history, economics, and biography. 

to Masonic literature, of which he has 
a large and valual)le collection, as be- 
fits one who has risen to eminence in 
the fraternity. ^Ir. McLane's Masonic 
record is an extended one. He was 

Mrs. John McLane. 

from whose pages, through that " read- 
ing which makyth the fulle man,*' 
their owner has come to know the 
source and direction of the great cur- 
rents in the flevelopment of nations; 
the controlling motives in the lives of 
the great captains of politics, com- 
merce, and warfare; and the laws which 
govern both individual and national 

made a Mason in Benevolent lodge, 
No. 7, of Milford. and there he early 
'* ])assed the chairs."" He is a mem- 
ber of King Solomon chapter. Royal 
Arch Masons, Xo. 17, of Milford 
and has filled its offices. He is 
a meml)er of St. George com- 
mandery. Knights Templar of Nashua; 
and of Edward A. Raymond consis- 
tory, Scottish Rite Masons, of Nashua, 



Clinton At McLane. 
John R. McLane. 

and is at ])i;esent its illustrious com- 
mander-in-(_liief. In the Grand lodge 
of New Hampshire Mr. McLane has 
for many years been a ]irominent fig- 
ure, and there in 189S he rose t(^ tlie 
position of grand muster, to which of- 
fice lie hrouijlit devotion to the wel- 
fare of the fraternity, dignity, culture 
in Masonic lore, and atl'ahility inkee])- 
ing with the long line of excellent men 
who had preceded him. In 1!)00 he 

Hazel E. McLane. 
Charles M. McLane. 

received the coveted thirty-third de- 
gree as a representative of this district. 
Mr. McLane is also an Odd Fellow 
and a Patron of Husbandry; a member 
of tlie Wliite Mountain Travelers' as- 
sociation; of the Amoskeag Veterans; 
of the Derryfield club of Manchester, 
and. the Wonolancet club of Concord. 
He also claims membership in the Bos- 
ton clul). the oldest dining did) in the 
country, and of the Xew Hampshire 



club of Boston, wiiich he has served 
acceptably as president. 

Mr. McLane is not a niemljcr of any 
church, but. following the traditions 
of the Covenant in his blood, he at- 
tends the Congregational church of 
Milford, contributing liberally also to 
all religious and charitable work in the 

In politics Mr. McLane is a Eepub- 
lic-au from conviction. Indeed, his 
life is well-nigh coeval with that of 
his party. He came to this country, 
an infant, in the year that the first 
Free Soil candidate, a New Hampshire 
man, was pitted for the presidency 
against another New Hampshire man 
who headed the successful poll. He 
grew up a lad among the stirring 
scenes of the Pathfinder's picturesque 
canvass — and of the Lincoln cam- 
paigns, carried on amid the din of war- 
fare. Trained as a laboring man and 
experienced as a manufacturer, he 
knows by practical test the sound com- 
mon-sense underlying the cardinal Ee- 
publican policy of protection to home 
industries and wage-workers; a banker, 
he knows the value of a stal:)le mone- 
tary system; a business man, he bears 
witness to the commercial needs of ex- 
pansion, both within and without our 
own borders. In short, he is a Eepub- 
liean of the modern school, of the 
Boosevelt type, if you })leasc — and in 
this connection it may not be out of 
place to say that wlien in 1900 he was 
chosen a delegate to the Philadelphia 
convention, he promptly declared his 
preference for Eoosevelt for the vice- 
presidency and never wavered in that 
position, despite the pressure of many 
interests for another. 

In 1885 Mr. McLane's townspeople 
sent him to represent Milford in the 
legislaturCj^ his support at the polls so 

far transcending the normal party 
strength as to make liim in fact, as he 
was in spirit, the representative of his 
whole people. During this session he 
achieved the rare distinction, for a lay- 
man, of serving on the chief law com- 
mittee of the house, that on the Judic- 
iary, and also on the committee on 
towns. In 1887 he came a second time 
to the general court and made an ac- 
tive canvass for the speakership in a 
spirited three-cornered contest which, 
for geographical and other reasons, was 
decided against him. From his suc- 
cessful opponent, however, he received 
the chairmanship of the committee on 
insurance and was named high in the 
membership of the important and la- 
borious committee on the revision of 
the statutes. Dui'ing the long and 
trying session which followed Mr. Mc- 
Lane was a conspicuous figure in all 
the delil)erations of tlie house, and he 
won high commendation for his stead- 
fast position upon questions affecting 
wide public interests. 

In 1891 he came to the state sen- 
ate from file Sixteenth (the old 
" Amherst ") district, and secured the 
presidency of that body after a sharp 
contest with former Congressman 
Henry M. Baker. In the chair of the 
upper l)ranch Mr. McLane won new 
laurels. The session was prolonged 
beyond the days of any January sit- 
ting of the general court; the canvass 
preceding had been hard fought; the 
majority in either house was slender; 
party feeling ran high. It required 
no small degree of tact and prudence 
to hold the gavel during such times, 
but at the close of the session Mr. Mc- 
Lane received the unanimous thanks 
of his colleagues, together vnth endur- 
ing mementoes of their esteem. 

Two years later he was returned to 



the senate, an honor won infrequently nevertheless, incomplete. To depict 
in onr strenuous and ambitious poli- Mr. McLane as an ambitious youth, a 
tics, and bv a second elevation to the faithful mechanic, a successful busi- 
presidency he secured a distinction for ness man, a sagacious banker, a man of 
nearly half a century unparalleled in Ijroad learning, gifted as a speaker, 
Xew Hampshire annals. At the close possessed of social graces, dignified in 
of this session ]\Ir. McLane again re- bearing, schooled in public affairs, 
ceived the compliments of the senate, skilled in political management, and 
accompanied by handsome gifts. devoted to party principles, would con- 
Since 1893 he has held no office, but vey only an imperfect idea of his char- 
during all that time, as for many years acter. It would only be the catalogue 
previously, he has been an active mem- of his attainments. Beneath these ex- 
ber of the Eepubliean state commit- ternals we look for the real man; and 
tee and has taken an earnest part in we find this one to be sturdy in fiber, 
every campaign. For more than ten courageous in morals, honest in in- 
years he has been one of Hillsborough tellect; companionable, of winning 
county's rejDresentatives upon the ex- personality: touched by all human 
ecutive committee of the state com- need, generously sympathetic, rejoicing 
mittee, and in addition to his counsels and rejoiced in a wide circle of loving- 
he has contributed to party success by friendships; charting his life course by 
frequent appearances upon the stump, deeds of unobtrusive kindness and 
where he has made an enviable record helpfulness; candid, forceful, true. 
as a convincing and popular speaker. These are the lasting standards of gen- 
Within the outlines here set forth nine manhood, of true citizenship, aye, 
will be found a true portrait of a man more, of the Ijest public service — and 
of varied talent and merit; but it is, Jolm McLane measures up to them all. 

.^\:' *-■' 




Bij Kntc Forrest. 

What is a Woman's Club? A meeting ground 
For those of purpose great and broad and strong, 
Whose aim is toward the stars, who ever long 
To make the patient, listening world resound 
With sweeter music, purer, nobler tones, 
A place where kindly, helpful words are said 
And kindlier deeds are done. 

UR great grandmothers 
knew nothing about 
women's chibs in their 
(lay. Busy lives were 
theirs, in those primitive 
times, when nearly all the needs of the 
household had to be supplied by home 
industry; when the housewife must 
spin and weave, make and mend the 
wearing apparel, the table linen, the 
bedding, neede'd by the large family. 
The loom and the spinning wheel oc- 
cupied the place of honor in the home, 
and, during the long winter evenings, 
a drowsy hum like that of the bees in 
the clover field on summer afternoons, 
filled the low-ceiled, old-fashioned 
kitchen with homely melody. Those 
were the days before electric lights, 
and the kitchen was illuminated by 
home-made tallow candles, the manu- 
facture of which was an accomplish- 
ment in itself. Then there was the 
butter to make, and cheese in its sea- 
son; the cows to be milked, for 
this part of the work usually fell to 
the woman folk — hens to feed, and 
soft soap to concoct, for there were no 
soap clubs in those days, and in order 
to keep her home sweet and clean, the 
housekeeper must, each spring when 
the frogs began to peep, get together 

the proper ingredients for making her 
own supply of that cleansing material. 

Each season had its own peculiar 
duties, and there was not much time 
for idleness in those early homes. Yet 
the life of the house mother was not 
wholly without social diversion. Once 
in a while a neighbor, on hospitality 
intent, or perhaps inspired with the 
wish to display some new triumph of 
her skill in weaving or in cookery, 
would invite a few select friends for 
an afternoon visit. Then would the 
Ijig brick oven be made hot with fiercest 
heat, and in due time from its capa- 
cious interior would ])C drawn forth 
such delectable dainties as can be baked 
in no modern range of even the most 
improved pattern. Then, presently, 
the round table would be turned down 
from the wall, wheeled into the middle 
of the kitchen and spread with snowy 
linen. The best china tea service 
would be brought forth from the par- 
lor closet and soon a circle of appre- 
ciative guests would be seated at the 
hospitable board, giving full meed of 
praise to the delicious pies and cakes, 
biscuits, and preserves, the while they 
discussed with equal relish the interests 
of their little world. 

In the autumn there were paring 



bees, and husking frolics, when work 
and amusement were happily com- 
bined, and all the year round there 
were quilting parties, whenever a pro- 
spective bride was getting her " fixing 
out " or when some thriftv dame hav- 
ing finished a piece of patchwork of 
gorgeous pattern wished to have it 
quilted in an intricate design, and so 
asked her neighbors to come in and en- 
joy a social chat while they made their 
fingers fly. 

Those were the days of the singing 
school and the spelling match — de- 
lightful institutions of a bygone age — 
and of the circuit rider, whose coming 
now and then, to hold a meeting in the 
schoolhouse at the corners, was an ex- 
citing event. With the occasional 
country wedding and its attendant 
merriment or the mournful excite- 
ment of a country funeral, added 
to the list of social occasions, our great- 
grandmothers probably thought they 
had plenty of amusement, and perhaps 
even imagined they were leading a 
very giddy life. If tliey could open 
their eyes — our dear, quaint grand 
dames — upon the world as it is to-day, 
would they not look with amazement 
upon the occupations and recreations 
of their granddaughters? They would 
scarcely recognize this as the same 
planet upon which they closed their 
eyes 100 years ago, so great are the 
changes which have taken place in that 
brief space of time — that turn of the 
hour glass in the hands of the Infinite 
— which we call a centiiry. 

Change sweeps over all things and 
leaves its traces everywhere. The 
primeval forest has receded before it, 
and the hillsides which were formerly 
clothed in leafy verdure are now 
adorned with fertile farms and vil- 

lages nestle in the valleys beside the 
shining river. The little hamlet which 
our grandmothers knew as Sanbornton 
Bridge has grown into the beautiful 
village of Tilton, with its broad, shaded 
streets, its manufactories and stores, 
its churches, its palatial homes, its 
school of learning on the hill, its far- 
famed memorial arch, its well ap- 
pointed library — and its Woman's 

The century of which our fore- 
mothers saw the beginning was draw- 
ing to a close when the Tilton and 
Xorthfield "Woman's club came into ex- 
istence. Through the intervening 
years the ladies had been satisfied, or 
tried to be, with the diversions which, 
somewhat modified and refined, had 
come down to them from their grand- 
mothers; but you " cannot quench the 
thirst of the spirit with buttermilk 
even in a cut-glass goblet,"' and some 
of the more earnest thinkers, believ- 
ing in the promise of the twentieth 
century, whose dawn was even then 
brightening the sky, began to wish for 
something more in keeping with the 
progress of the age. Then some one 
said, " Why cannot we have a woman's 
club?'' But others demurred a little, 
for the people of this village, notwith- 
standing their progressiveness, are 
withal a bit conservative and do not at 
once fall in with new ideas. The 
thought was not allowed to perish, 
however. Whenever the ladies met in 
twos and threes, here and there, it was 
talked over; the work of woman's clubs 
in other places was studied, and so the 
idea took shape and grew. Summer 
passed, with its long sunny hours, so 
filled with brightness that thev needed 
nothing to enhance their pleasure; 
September came, bringing mellow 



skies and moonlight nights; October 
filled the vales with gold and crimson 
glor}^, and still the Tilton and Xorth- 
field Woman's club existed only in the 
dreams of its projectors. 

But when November came, with its 
gray skies and snow flurries, grim re- 
minders of swift approaching winter, 
the subject was revived with new vigor. 
On Tuesday, the 12th of that month, 
in the vear 1895, the records tell us 

Congregational Church. 

that twelve ladies met at the home of 
one of their number to consider the 
advisability of forming a woman's 
club. Their deliberations have not 
come down to us in detail, but the 
record says that when tliey separated 
it was with the miderstanding that 
they should meet again on the follow- 
ing Saturday and that each should 
then bring two friends with her. 
Busy women were the twelve during 
these intervening days. We can 
imagine how they hastened to inter- 
view their friends and the cunning ar- 
guments they employed to induce 

others to see, as they themselves saw, 
the need of a woman's club. Their 
reasoning must have been conclusive, 
for when Saturday came there was an 
enthusiastic gathering at the appointed 
place and the Tilton and Northfield 
Woman's club was speedily organized, 
with thirty-two charter members. 
Mrs. Frances S. Spencer was chosen 
president; Mrs. Mary E. Boynton, vice- 
president; Miss Lizzie M. Page, secre- 
tary; Mrs. Sophia T. Eogers, treasurer; 
Mrs. Kate C. Hill, auditor; Mrs. 
Georgia L. Young, Mrs. Martha D. R. 
Baker, Miss Mary M. Emery, directors. 

The rapid increase in membership 
soon made it impracticable to hold the 
meetings at the homes of the mem- 
bers, and the vestry of the Congrega- 
tional church became the permanent 
home of the club. Thither the mem- 
bers wended their way on Saturday 
afternoons of that winter, which we 
may believe, did not seem to them as 
long and wearisome as winters of past 
years. They had something to look 
forward to now, with anticipation and 
interest, and when club day came 
round it was a cheerful and expectant 
company which assembled in the spa- 
cious meeting place. 

A glance at the calendar arranged 
for the first year shows that the mem- 
bers started in with a full appreciation 
of their duties and privileges. Sev- 
eral valualjle papers were prepared and 
read l)v the ladies upon such themes as 
" The Present Crisis in Turkey," " A 
Plea for Moral Training," "Types 
of American Statesmen," " Ancient 
Rome," " A Comparison of the South 
in 1848 and 1895." "The Signifi- 
cance of the Lotus in Art and Re- 
ligion " was the subject of a paper 
given by the vice-president, whose art- 



istic ability well qualified her to illus- 
trate such a theme. 

A very pleasant afternoon was that 
on which Miss Elizabeth A. Herrick 
of New York was present to speak to 
the members of the club and their 
friends. Miss Herrick, who is the 
daughter of the late Eev. Marcellus A. 
Herrick, the first rector of Trinity 
church, is an accomplished artist and 
teacher of art. She is thoroughly in 
love with her work, yet it was not as 
a lover of art but as a lover of children 
that she spoke upon this occasion. 
"What shall we do for the children?' 
was her subject and some of those who 
listened to her recalled many hours of 
their childhood days which had been 
brightened by the fairy tales, quaint 
legends, and amusing anecdotes told 
bv this vouno- ladv in her own charm- 
ing wav. 

The first 2:entlemen's night of the 
club was held on the evening of the 
14th of February — certainly an appro- 
priate date for an event of this kind. 
Now every club woman knows that 
gentlemen's night is the most impor- 
tant occurrence of the club year. 
However interesting the ordinary meet- 
ings may be, the greatest degree of en- 
thusiasm centers around the occasion 
when the husbands, brothers, fathers, 
and friends are to be entertained. If 
this is true in a general way it was es- 
pecially true in this instance, when 
the club was to make its debut, as it 
were, in social life. The social com- 
mittee, whose duty it was to plan and 
execute arrangements for this initial 
gentlemen's night, Avas composed of 
these ladies: Mrs Jonathan L. Lov- 
erin, Mrs. William B. Fellows, Mrs. 
Elwin H. Proctor, Mrs. Albert C. 
Muzzey, and Mrs. Charles H. Crockett. 

When St. Valentine's evening arrived 
it was an admiring company of ladies 
and gentlemen avIio gathered at the 
town hall for the reception and con- 
cert which formed the opening portion 
of the event. At the conclusion of the 
programme, which consisted of sing- 
ing by a quartette from Laconia, se- 
lections on the piano and readings by 
Mrs. Elizabeth Wilder and Mrs. Mary 
Packard Cass, members of the club, the 
assembly adjourned to Loverin hotel 
and gathered around tables spread 

The Arch. 

Avith every appetizing viand. " When 
the menu had been duly discussed," to 
quote the reporter, there Avas a call to 
order, Avliich caused the clatter of 
knives and forks and the chatter of 
merry tongues to cease, and under the 
direction of the toastmistress, Mrs. 
Silas W. Davis, a rare " feast of rea- 
son " was enjoyed. An address of 
Avelcome A\^as given by the president, 
Mrs. F. S. Spencer. "Our Guests," by 
Mrs. E. J. Young, AA^as responded to 
by Eev. Eoscoe Sanderson, at that 
time pastor of the ]\Iethodist Episco- 
pal church. Other toasts were " The 
Woman's Club in Eelation to the Home 
and the Church," Mrs. J. M. Durrell; 



"Our Young People,"' Eev. C. C. 
Sampson, pastor of the Congregational 
cliurcli; " Xew Hampshire Conference 
Seminary and Female College " (now 
Tilton seminary), Eev. D. C. Knowles, 
D. D.; "The Woman's Club in So- 
ciety," Mrs. Frank Hill; " Insurance," 
Mr. Arthur T. Cass; "The Influence 
of Art," Miss Cora E. Edgerton; " Our 
Legal Friends," Mr. C. C. Eogers; 
" Greetings," President J. M. Durrell, 
of the seminary. At last, " to all, to 
each, a fair good night " was said and 
the lights went out upon a gratified 
social committee, a triumphant club, 
and a satisfied party of guests. 

When the year closed no question 
was raised as to the future existence 
of a Woman's club in Tilton. At the 
annual meeting the club showed a wis- 
dom beyond its years in choosing its 
first president for a second term. Mrs. 
Spencer was one of the earliest promo- 
ters of the club, for reading and study 
had convinced her of the value of such 
an organization for women, and the 
preliminary meetings which decided 
the " to be or not to be " of the club 
were held at her home. It seemed es- 
pecially fitting that she should be the 
first president of the Tilton and North- 
field Woman's club, for she is a Tilton 
and jSTorthfield woman. Although 
many years of her life have been spent 
in Tilton she first saw the light in a 
Northfield farmhouse. It was fitting, 
too, that the mother of the first presi- 
dent should have been the first honor- 
ary member of the club. Hannah 
Tebbetts Curry was of pioneer stock 
and possessed those qualities which are 
the rightful inheritance of those who 
claim such lineage — courage, self- 
reliance and executive ability. She 
brought up a family of ten children, 

nine daughters and one son, without 
the aid of electric lights, steam heat, 
the sewing machine or the Woman's 
club. She probably did not feel the 
lack of these modern conveniences, 
nor dream when she rocked the little 
Frances Susan by the fireside in the 
old farmhouse kitchen, that she was 
holding in her arms a future club 
president. But such are the mutations 
of time. Mrs. Curry passed away a 
few years ago at the age of eighty- 
nine years. 

]\[rs. Spencer, in 1901, went to San 
Francisco with the Christian Endeav- 
orers, and a few years previous she 
crossed the ocean for several months 
of European travel. 

The vice-president for this second 
year was Mrs. Mittie C. Emery; Miss 
Annie L. Wyatt was secretary; Mrs. 
Cynthia E. Powers, treasurer, and Mrs. 
IMartha D. E. Baker, auditor. 

In the spring of 1897 a new presi- 
dent was chosen, for the third year of 
the club — Mrs. Alice Freeze Durgin. 
The vice-president and secretary of 
the previous year were reelected, Mrs. 
Maude W. Oilman was chosen treas- 
urer and Mrs. Lucia M. Knowles, au- 
ditor. Mrs. Durgin l)elongs to the 
noble army of public school teachers. 
Indeed, it is a somewhat remarkable 
fact that all of the ladies who have 
thus far occupied the president's chair 
in the Tilton and Northfield Woman's- 
club, have been at some period of their 
lives " school-marms." This is per- 
haps because the members think that 
one accustomed to rule over the small 
empire of the school-room may be bet- 
ter qualified than others to wield the 
sceptre in the wider domain of the 
Woman's club, and it can be said that 
their judgment has not been at fault.. 


Mrs. Dnrgin is a native of Tilton — or 
Sanbornton — and was educated at the 
seminary, graduating in the class of 
ISTG, a famous class bv the way. She 
commenced teaching immediately af- 
ter her graduation and became so 
wedded to the work that even her 
marriage to Mr. Herbert L. Durgin in 
1882 could not divorce her from it. 
She is at present one of the most popu- 
lar teachers in the city of Laconia. 
]\Irs. Durgin possesses literary talent 
also, and besides writing very bright 
short stories for the various magazines, 
has contributed articles of merit to 
educational publications, and has even, 
to quote her own words, " attempted 

The president of the club in 1898- 
"99 was Mrs. Kate C. Hill, who was 
born in a neighboring town, of the 
house of Scribner. She is also one of 
the honored alumnae of Tilton semin- 
ary, and after leaving school taught 
for several years previous to her mar- 
riage with Mr. Frank Hill. Her mar- 
ried life has been spent in Tilton and 
she now lives in one of the handsomest 
residences in the village, situated on 
an eminence commanding a beautiful 
view of the surrounding country. Her 
husband is a successful grocer in the 
firm of Philbrick & Hill, and they 
have two living children, Eoger Frank 
and Myra Pearl. The daughter, a 
charming and accomplished young 
lady, is secretary of the club for the 
current year. Mrs. Hill's associates 
were: Vice-president, Mrs. Ellen G. 
Crockett; secretary. Miss Lela G. Dur- 
gin; treasurer, Mrs. Ida G. Fellows. 

Mrs. Crockett topk the logical step 
in advance the following year and be- 
came president. Mrs. Alice W. San- 
born was elected vice-president; Miss 

Beulah A. Hoitt, secretary; Miss 
Georgia E. Page, treasurer; Mrs. Etta 
F. Plimpton, auditor. Mrs. Crockett's 
maiden name was Tilton and she was 
one of the children of a clergyman. 
She was educated at Colby academy, 
Xew London, and was a ver}' success- 
ful teacher for several years. Her in- 
terest in educational affairs did not 
cease with her marriage, although that 
put an end to her work in the school- 
room. She is filling for the second 
term of three years the position of 
member of the board of education of 
Union school district. Mrs. Crockett 
has two daughters, Grace, a graduate 
of Union graded school and at present 
a student at Tilton seminary, and El- 
len Tilton, a charming, chubby, two- 
years-old baby. Both wdll doubtless 
be trained by their mother into good 
club women. 

Mrs. Crockett refused reelection at 
the annual meeting and Mrs. Georgia 
Lancaster Young was chosen president. 
Nine years of ^Irs. Young's unmarried 
life were spent in teaching, and Quincy 
and Camlu'idge, in the commonwealth 
of Massachusetts, were the scenes of 
her pedagogical efforts. She might 
have lieen teaching yet if, as she says, 
" ]\[r. A'oung had not happened along,'^ 
but during a year of rest from school 
work at the home of her father in 
ISTorthfield, ]\Ir. Young, who was a 
near neighbor, did '' happen along " 
and succeeded in persuading Miss Lan- 
caster to become Mrs. Young, to ex- 
change the occupation of teaching for 
that of home-making. If she has ever 
regretted this step she has successfully 
concealed the feeling from an inquisi- 
tive world. Care certainly sits lightly 
upon her brow, and at her pleasant 
home on Park street she has a cheery 



welcome for all who come. Mrs. 
Young's ancestors were patriots and 
she is an enthusiastic Daughter of the 
American E evolution, having served as 
historian of the local chapter for sev- 
eral years. 

The most persuasive arguments of 
her friends could not convince Mrs. 
Young that it Avas her duty to con- 
tinue to administer the affairs of the 
cluh for a second term, or if, " con- 
vinced against her will," she " was of 
the same opinion still,'' and in April, 
1901, Mrs. Hannah 8. Philbrook was 

sizes, from the ABC tots of three or 
four years up to the " rule of three," 
and " Algebrav " students, often older 
and generally larger than the teacher; 
the davs when teaching was remuner- 
ated by the magnificent salary of one 
dollar, or possibly nine shillings a 
week, and when the school-marm 
" boarded round," faring with the 
families of her pupils sumptuously or 
frugally as the case might be. After 
spending ten years in the school-room, 
Miss Sanborn felt that she needed rest 
and change, and gave up her work to 

Public Library. 

chosen president. The historic old 
town of Sanbornton claims Mrs. Phil- 
brook as a daughter, and she is one of 
the large and famous clan from whom 
the town received its name. She was 
a member of the second class which 
graduated from the old New Hamp- 
shire Conference seminary, and has al- 
ways been interested in educational 
and literary work. She began the 
work of training the young idea when 
only fourteen years old — scarcely more 
than a child herself. Those were the 
days of the " little red schoolhouse," 
with its small, battered school-room. 

marry the Eev. Nathan Page Phil- 
brook, a fellow-townsman. As the 
wife of a Methodist clergyman she 
doubtless found plenty of " rest " be- 
tween the moving times, and no lack of 
" change " in the twenty-two moves 
which she and ]\Ir. Philbrook made 
during the period of his active minis- 
try; for those were the old itinerant 
days when the limit of a pastorate was 
two, and later, three years. Less than 
a decade ago they returned to their na- 
tive town -to pass the remainder of 
their days and are now living in peace- 
ful retirement under their own " vine 

crowded with urchins of all ages and and fig tree," within the classic shadow 





Mrs. Frances S. Spencer. 
First President. 

Mrs, Alice Freeze Durgin, 
Second President, 

Mrs, Hannah Tebbetts Curry. 
First Honorary Member. 

Mis. Hannah Sanborn Philbrook. 
Sixth President, 

Miss Georgia E. Page. 

Miss Leia G. Durgin. 
7 'ice- President. 

Mrs. C. H. Crockett. 
Fourth Prcsidt'iit. 

Mrs. Kate C. Hill. 
Third President. 

Mrs. Georgia L. Young. 
Fifth President. 

Miss Myra Pearl Hill. 

Mrs, Florence Freeze Towie, 



of the soniiiiarv on the liiU. In the torv and l)io,uTapliy, for tlie enjoyment 
spring of 1901 they cele1)rated their of tlie noble beauties of Shakespeare, 
golden wedding, when a host of friends 
gathered aronnd them and showered 
upon them good wishes and golden 


Althouiih Mrs. i*liilln-ook has with- 
drawn to a certain extent from active 

or the sweetness and rhythm of mod- 
ern poets. Just here the Woman's 
club comes in to help her. On Satur- 
day afternoons she is ffiven in con- 

densed and interesting form by the 
memljer to whom current events is as- 
participation in the world's work, she signed for that meeting, the story of 

the important occurrences in the world 
of the present. Papers on the colonial 
history of Xew Hampshire, the Revo- 
lutionary period of the United States, 
the eminent men and women of our 
state and nation, freshen the mem- 

is still, in a way, assisting in its prog- 
ress, for she has four sons and two 
daughters wlio are useful and honored 
workers in the field of life. 

Mrs. Philhrook's associate officers for 
the season of 1901-"02 were Mrs. i\.nn- 

ibec Wyman Foster, vice-president; ories of those who prepare and those 
Miss Beulah Hoitt, secretary; Miss 
Georgia E. Page, treasurer; Mrs. Clara 
Mrs. Lang, auditor. 

The clulj showed its appreciation of 
Mrs. Philbrook's ability by reelecting 
her to the office of president and she 
entered upon a second auspicious term 
with Miss Georgia E. Page as vice- 
president; Mrs. Mal)el W. Hill, secre- 
tary: ^liss ]\Iary E. Foss, treasurer; 
Mrs. Lang, auditor. 

who listen to them. Afternoons with 
Shakespeare, hours with Kipling, 
Whittier, Emerson, Browning, and 
other poets make life seem grander and 
its meaning more clear. 

Studies in local history have not been 
omitted from the club jirogrammes 
of the diif erent seasons. " Memories 
and traditions of Sanbornton " and 
" Some things not generally known in 
the history of Xorthfield," have been 

Eight successful years have proved graphically told by ladies who are fully 

that the Tilton and Xorthfield 
Woman's club has an excuse for being. 
Year by year, as the years have 
passed, the club has grown in impor- 
tance as a factor in the lives of its 
members. As thev have o-athered 
from week to week, they have felt the 
uplifting intluence of sympathetic in- 
tercourse and exchange of ideas. The 

acquainted with the story of their own 
well-b'eloved towns. Under the head 
of '■'■ Bygones," the Xorthfield annals 
are appearing in one of our local pa- 
pers, to the gratification of many read- 
ers. Those whose privilege it has been 
to travel in foreign lands or to visit 
the distant shores of their own coun- 
try, have described their Journeyings 

horizon of the busy woman, especially in California, Europe, and Japan for 

the one cumbered with household 
cares, is apt to be limited because she 
has not time for reading or for much 
going abroad to join in the activities 
and thought interchange of the outside 
world. She has not had leisure since 
her school days for the study of his- 

G. M.— 6 

the pleasure of their less fortunate sis- 

To avoid monotony and for the sake 
of that broadening influence which 
comes from contact with minds out- 
side our own sphere, some talented 
ladies and gentlemen, specialists in 



their different lines, liave been invited 
irom time to time to entertain and in- 
struct the clnh. Lectures have been 
listened to upon the " X-Eays," 
" Liquid Air,"' " The Wonders of Mod- 
ern Biology," " New Hampshire Bird- 
life/' " Sanitation and Home Emer- 
gencies." '' The Political and Com- 
mercial Expansion of the T'nited 
States," by Hon. James 0. Lyford, and 

The members of the club have not 
been selfish with their good things. 
They have ofttimcs invited the 
"world's people"" to go witli them 
into the realms of science, to view with 
them the scenes of l)eautiful " Old New 
England.  to visit the land of " Ben 
Hur." to look upon the " Passion 
Play," or to listen to the story of 
" Tony's Hardships," told only recently 

" The New Congressional Library," by to a great comjiany of Tilton people 

Mrs. Eliza Nelson Blair, have been 
among the most interesting addresses. 
Last year an afternoon was devoted to 
the subject, " What may be done to 
improve our town," when papers were 
read by a physician, a minister, the 
president of the seminary, and the 
cashier of the bank. 
Then, Ijecause 

"We may live without poetry, music, 

and art; 
We may live without conscience, and 

live without heart; 
We may live without friends; wo may 

live without books; 
But civilized man cannot live without 


there has been, now and again, a cook- 
ing demonstration or talk on domestic Ijility without alloy 
science, by ladies who have made a 
study of the subject: and. while the 
members of the club do not, of course, 
need any such lessons — being all not- 
able cooks and housekeepers already — 
yet they have sained new ideas l)y 

by Jacob A. Riis, the great philan- 
thropist and the friend of President 

Once a year C(unes " Gentlemen's 
Night." which is now regarded l)y the 
village as one of the most important 
social events of the year. The gentle- 
]ncn tliemselves, Avho are the guests of 
the occasion, feign entire indifference 
toward it. but as tlie time approaches 
they may be seen haunting haber- 
dashers' shops in search of new neck- 
ties and collars of the latest shape and 
getting out for re-pressing and other- 
wise rejuvenating the dress suits of 
their graduation or wedding days. 
When the evening comes a joyous com- 
pany gathers, all in festive array, and 
there is music and feasting and socia- 

" Disguise our bondage as we will, 
'Tis woman; woman rules us still." 

The gentlemen are constrained to 
confess on these occasions and they 
also have to acknowledge then that 
which neither they nor their families the bondage is not so unpleasant after 
have l)een the losers. If some of the all. 

experiments have failed when put to Very tuneful afternoons are those 
the })ractical test — though we ought which are given up to music, for sev- 
not to hint at such a thing — the bus- oral of the members are more than or- 
bands and fathers have learned anew dinarily gifted in that divine art, and 
to prize the every-day cookery of their they are glad to use their talent for the 
wives and daughters. pleasure of others. An address on 



music was given one afternoon hy tlie 
Rev. Lucius Waterman, D. D., a former 
rector of Trinity church and one of 
the most learned musicians in New 

Mindful of hospitality, the eluh fre- 
qiiently invites some neighboring club 
for an "' afternoon visit,'" when the best 
tea things are brought out and the 
most choice entertainment provided, 
just as in the days of the neighborhood 
visits of their grandmothers. On '' Re- 
ciprocity " day the visiting club furn- 
ishes the programme. 

The Tilton and Xorthfield AVoman's 
club was admitted to the New Hamp- 
shire Federation of Women's clubs in 
October, 1896, and in November, 1899, 
had the privilege of listening to a lec- 
ture on the subject, " What may the 
Federation do to advance Educational 
Interests in New Hampshire," by Mrs. 
Susan C. Btmcroft of Concord, then 
president of the Federation. Mrs. 
Sarah A. Blodgett of Franklin, who 
has since served as the State Federa- 
tion president, addressed the club on 
one occasion upon a subject which is 
very near to her own heart, " Philan- 
thropy in New Hampshire." 

Believing that " the more things 
thou learnest to know and enjoy, the 
more complete and full will be for thee 
the delight of living," the club took 
up for its outside work during the years 
of Mrs. Young's administration the 
study of art, and a large number of 
those interested in the subject met 
from week to week at the homes of the 
members. They found a strong fas- 
cination in the study of the old mas- 
ters, and gained a new appreciation and 
recognition of the best in art. They 
were greatly assisted in their researches 
by the valuable reference books on art 

which tliey found in the public library, 
and which were placed at their dis- 
posal Ijy tlie librarian. 

The ninth year of the Tilton and 
Northfield A\'oman's club opens with 
prospects no less bright than those of 
former years. The new president is 
Miss Georgia Etta Page, a Northfield- 
ite born and bred, and a graduate of 
Tilton seminary, class of 1881. She 
has ])ursued the club vocation of teach- 
ing in her own town and for the past 
ten years in the public schools of La- 
conia. Miss Page is the first unmar- 
ried president this club has had, but 
as " marriage is not necessary to sal- 
vation," neither is it essential to suc- 
cess as president of a woman's club — 
a fact which the coming season will no 
doubt demonstrate. 

Miss Lela CI. Durgin, the vice-presi- 
dent, belongs to the Tilton side of the 
river. She is a graduate of St. Mary's 
school, Concord, and at present has 
charge of the primary department of 
Union graded school. She is a de- 
scendant of Revolutionary heroes and 
at the annual meeting of Liberty chap- 
ter, D. A. R., held recently at the home 
of the first club president, Mrs. Spen- 
cer, she was reelected secretary of the 

The club secretary is ]\Iiss Myra 
Pearl Hill, the daughter of Mr. and 
Mrs. Frank Hill, and a Tilton semin- 
ary graduate in the class of 1900. Mrs. 
Florence Freeze Towle, a prominent 
society lady, is treasurer, and Mrs. 
Alice Wyman Sanborn, auditor. 

An interesting programme has been 
arranged for the coming season, to in- 
clude a course of lectures open to the 
public; an address upon forestry in 
New Hampshire; a study of the life 
and works of the great composer, Schu- 



bert, and other important topics. The 
historical subject to l^e taken np this 
season is the Louisiana Purchase, and 
several meetings will be devoted to pa- 
pers relating to the acquisition by the 
United States of this vast strip of 
French territory Avhich has been de- 
veloped into some of the noblest states 
of our Union. 

The membership of the club is now 
over 100 of the earnest, ambitious 
women of Tilton and Xorthfield, who 

are seeking in various ways to make 
the most of the splendid opportunities 
of the twentieth century. " Unity in 
Diversity " is their motto, — " In great 
things unity, in small things liberty,^ 
in all things charity." In the strength 
of this motto, under the " red badge of 
courage,'' they are going forward, year 
by year, to greater attainments, with 
renewed confidence in the future of the 
Tilton and iSTorthfield "Woman's club. 


Bij N. F. Carter. 

As day by day in fleet succession passes, 
Eolls into years their linking sands of gold, 

Our roval mother calls her lads and lasses. 
Gracing her many homes in days of old: 

Come home, come home, with sliout and waving bannert 

loyal children of the Granite state, 
Ten thousand lips shall welcome witli hosannas. 

As wait they at the open garden gate ! 

Come home, come home, and bid good-by to sadness, 
And toils with their long round of fretting cares, 

And make the week a week of restful gladness. 
Like that we ask for in our daily prayers! 

If greeted with no cannon's peal of thunder. 

Our bonfires kindle on a hundred hills. 
Bespeaking ties so strong no time can sunder, 

Of wakened love that all our being thrills! 


Beyond and hack of all our uttered speeches, 

Emotions, feelings lips can ne'er express, 
Stir in the soul, like surf on ocean heaches. 

So eager in our round of joy to Ijless! 

Our lieaity handclasps, warm with cordial greetings, 

Shall whisper of the days of long ago. 
When youth gave huoyancv to happv meetings, 

And joy held sway in festal overiiow. 

And still the ring of youth is in our voices, 

The well-remembered laughter lingers still. 
Our hearts are loyal still to old-time choices. 

And love as fondly as they ever will I 

Eoam if you wish or will the wide world over, 

Scan well the broad expanse from sea to sea. 
Its waving forests, fields of Idushing clover 

All honey-laden for the singing bee. 

T\niere find a fairer clime with airs serener, 

Full laden with their summer wealth of Ijalm? 
Where vales more beautiful, or hilltops greener. 

Or finer landscapes adding charm to charm? 

The mountains of our homeland, rough and hoary. 

Still stand like rock-hewn altars, as of old. 
To greet you. red with morning's flush of glory. 

Or glowing with the sunset's crimsoned gold! 

Thev bare their summits to the wild winds sweeping 

In cleansing majesty the upper air, 
In silent might their lonely vigils keeping. 

Like watchmen shielding with a o-uardian care. 

They speak of all things high and pure and holy, 
As tower they heavenward ever day and night. 
Yet look benignly on the low and lowly. 

Their pride the ])ride of firmncs- for the right I 

No Alps or Andes lifts its head more grandly, 

Or overlooks more picturesque expanse. 
That dallies with the cloud and storm more blandly 

Eegardless of the pomp of circumstance. 

The north winds down their rugged gorges blowing 

Are tonic-laden for the vreak and worn, 
Eefreshing far beyond the moment's knowing 

With healing balm through all the being borne! 


The children of ten tlionsand homes were nourished, 
And o-rew from their life-oivina; brave and stronir. 

In the great world of need have wrought and flourished, 
And carved them names for golden lines of song! 

On that long roll to hless till time is hoary 
As age sncceeding age shall pass awa}^, 

"We look with honest pride, as stars of glory 
To light the nations to a better dav! 

Than home, the olden home, no spot is dearer 
To scattered sons and daughters roaming far, 

Xo scene of childhood stands in vision clearer. 
As memories their secret gates unbar! 

Home, home, akin to licaven in holy meaning, 
In glad communion born of mated souls, 
: From life diviner joys together gleaming. 

As time the pages of its l)liss unr(~)lls. 

Then come with Ixnmdino- hearts, so warudv heating, 
Joy for the time shall hold imperial sway. 

The old-time story, jest and song repeating, 
Till life seems young as in that younger day! 


Come test the nuitin and the vesper breezes. 

The waiting visions full of glory see 

• Where every landsca23e with its beauty pleases, 

' x\nd songs of love are anthems of the free! 

The old familiar haunts of hill and valley, 
The singing birds and many-tinted flowers. 

The rippling brooks that out the woodlands sally. — 
Invite to celebrate these festal hours. 

The old-time church-bell still is m the stccjfle. 

AVhose tuneful notes our sainted fathers heard. 
Still rings its Sabbath call to all the ])eople. 

To seek tbe House of God to hear GodV wor(h 

And though we greatly miss the fathers, mothers, 
"Who filled with sunshine all these homes of old, 

"W^e gladly welcome in their places others 
Whose lives are ripening into sheaves of gold! 

On them we ask a Heavenly Father's Iflessing, 
That in the richest graces of the saintly soul, 

Faith's wooing pathways, ever pressing. 
In triumph they may reach the Eden goal! 

Clincdinst, II 'ashingtcm. 

Courtesy o/" The Youth's Companion.'''' 
Ex-Governor of Cuba. 

Original in Jiossesstoii of J. y. Coxcter. 

Birthplace of General Leonard Wood. 

This is a photograpli of the house, taken at aliout the time of his birth,— a rear view, showing the 
building in its original condition. The roof was burned off in 1871, and replaced. Mrs. Wood, General 
Wood's mother, has seen the photograph, and aclinowledges it to be of the birthplace. The photo, 
is a rare one, being kindly loaned by J. J. Coxeter of Newtonville, Mass., who possesses the original, 
the only one in existence. The other photographs of this set are in the possession of the author. The 
birthplace is the white building with balcony. 


Bij Je^se H. Buffum. 


T -would be pardonable for 
the stranger visitor to 
ask of every community 
be might visit in Xew 
Hampshire, " What great 
man was born here?" The Granite 
state has "■ turned ont " so many sons 
of renown that to have ^^ointed ont to 
him the birthplace of some prominent 
personage, evokes Imt little snrprise 
from the visitor; and General Wood, 
thongh having passed so small a part 
of his career in the state, adds another 
to the alreadv illustrious list of off- 


Leonard A. 

"Wood was born 


Winchester, on October 9, 1860. 
This event took place in a very 
ordinary, even obscure, room in an un- 
pretentious tenement facing on the 
main street and which now forms part 
of a central business block. The 
l)uilding is the same to-dav. unchanged 
in location and Init little in outward 
appearance. It is not noticeable, save 
when 23ointed out, and then your only 
wonder is that it remains in such good 

To sketch in completeness the life 
of Governor Wood is not possible here, 
nor is it, indeed, my purpose. Yet I 
desire to make mention, briefly, of some 
of the achievements bv which he has 



Photo, by Jesse H. BhJJhiii. 

Forty Years After. 

The birthplace as it appears to-daj',— a front view. General Wood was born in a room on the sec- 
ond story in the building on the right. The post-office was located on the ground floor at the time. 
Its postmaster, W. H. Gurnsey, held its office for twenty -five years. He went in under Lincoln, and, 
on account of his invariable correct accounts, was offered the office again under Harrison. He refused. 

risen to his present high station in the 
political life of the nation. 

To the hospitals of Boston, close 
upon his graduation from Harvard, 
Dr. Wood was known as a more than 
ordinarily successful surgeon and 
physician, in the position of house sur- 
geon in the City hospital. He grad- 
uated from college in '84, holding 
this position hefore he had completed 
his medical training. 

He was known in Arizona as a man 
and soldier of rare hardihood and 
pluck. In 1886, under Miles in those 
daring campaigns against the unruly 
Apaches, he won what to the soldier 
is the most coveted of distinctions, the 
medal of honor. He was later known 
to his country as coloned of that famed 

regiment, the First United States Vol- 
unteer cavalry. Xo account of the do- 
ings of tliis body of men is attempted 
here: the archives of American history 
have on record their heroic achieve- 

It is dou])tful if the average reader 
is familiar with the rare service he gave 
his country during the conflict of '98. 
He took part in the battle of Las G-ua- 
simas on June 24, and in the battle of 
San Juan, in wbich. because of General 
Young's illness, he assumed command 
of one of the two bri shades of General 
Wheelers divisions of dismounted cav- 
alry. For conspicuousness of service 
he was on July 8 made brigadier- 
general of volunteers. Three days af- 
ter the surrender of Santiago he was 



appointed governor of tliat city. This 
was on July 17. In the following Oc- 
tober he was made governor of the en- 
tire province of Santiago. 

He was known to the entire world in 
this position as a man of unusual abil- 
ity and resourcefulness, tact, and en- 
ergy. One cannot quickly grasp the 
significance of his service in the island 
of Cuba. He was put in a unique and 
untried position — a position without 
precedent — to do an entirely new and 
peculiar task. And he did it I Every- 
thing here was exotic to his former ex- 
periences. Yet there was demanded 
the same thoroughness and Justice, the 
same courage in handling men that he 
had invariably displayed throughout 
his preceding career. He had here to 
deal with a people differing entirely in 
sj)eech, habit, and creed from his own, 

yet his manner of controlling these 
same people was fortunate beyond com- 
parison. It was Gen. Leonard ^Yood 
who fitted the Cuban people for self- 
government. The Encyclopaedia Bri- 
tdunica says of this work: 

" In tliis caj)acity, by his firmness, 
common sense, and moderation, he 
effected a M'ondrous improvement in 
sanitary conditions and in the improve- 
ment of order and good government 

That to the War with Spain was due 
largely the making of more than one 
man of present national repute is un- 
doubtedly true. And yet, while Gen- 
eral "Wood's greatest success and 
achievements and present position in 
national affairs is traceable to the con- 
ditions directly resulting from that 
conflict, it would be said, I doubt not, 

i'hoto. by Jisse H . Buffiiiu. 

The Village Common of To-day. 



by President Ivoosevelt and others of 
his more intimate friends, that he pos- 
sessed naturally those qualities which 
assured him success in whatever line 
of enterprise he chose to espouse. 

Concerning his personal (qualities, no 
words can he more fitting than those 


Photo, hy French. 

Village Common as it Appeared Forty Years Ago. 

Viewed from any point tlie village square 
would scarcely be recognized to-day by one who 
had not seen it since General Wood was born in 
the building which appears in the background 
through the vista of trees. It is much changed. 
Buildings have been taken down or moved. 
Trees have grown up or been destroyed. In 
some places new structures have been erected,— 
the schoolhouse with cupola once stood on the 
spot from which this view was taken. 

expressed hy one of his most intimate 
friends, President Roosevelt. In 
speaking of the friends who helped to 
organize his regiment ol' Pough Riders, 
he said: 

" Naval officers came and went and 
senators were only in the city while the 
senate was in session; but there was one 
friend who was steadily in Washing- 
ton. This was an armv surgeon, Dr. 
Leonard Wood. I only met him after 
I entered the navy department, but we 
soon found that we had kindred tastes 

and kindred ju'inciples. He had 
served in General Miles' inconceivably 
harassing campaigns against the 
xlpaches, where he had displayed such 
courage that he won that most coveted 
of distinctions, the medal of honor; 
such extraordinary physical strength 
and endurance that he grew to be 
recognized as one of the two or three 
white men mIio could stand fatio-ue and 
hardship as well as an Apache; and 
such judgment that toward the close 
of the campaigns he was given, though 
a surgeon, the actual command of 
more than one ex})editi()n against the 
bands of renegade Indians. Like so 
many of the gallant fighters with 
whom it was later my good fortune to 
serve, he conduned in a very high de- 
gree the qualities of entire manliness 
with entire uprightness and cleanli- 
ness of character. It was a pleasure 
to deal with a man of high ideals, who 
scorned everything mean and Ijase and 
who also possessed those robust and 
hardy qualities of body and mind, for 
the lack of which no merely negative 
virtue can ever atone. He was by na- 
ture a soldier of the highest type, and 
like most natural soldiers, he was, of 
course, Ijorn with a keen lonoino- for 
adventure; and, though an excellent 
doctor, what he really desired was the 
chance to lead men in some kind of 
hazard. To every possibility of such 
adventure he jDaid quick attention. 
For instance, he had a great desire to 
get me to go with him on an expe- 
dition into the Klondike in mid- 
winter at the time when it was thought 
that a relief party would have to be 
sent there to help the starving miners." 
The citizens of Winchester, the 
American people, join in the expres- 
sions of their chief magistrate, and pay 



loving- trilmto to tlic man who has 
honored liinix'lf. the phiee of his hirtli. 
and liis feUow-eomilryiiK'n. by liis gal- 
lant service, his valiant manhood, and 
loyal perfoi'inanee of his otlieial respon- 

HIS no:\iE. 

The visitor to Winchester of a dec- 
ade ago would not have had pointed 
ont to him. as lie does to-day. the hirth- 
jilace of Brig.-(ien. Leniiuicl A. Wood. 
The same Imilding is there. }tractieally 
nnchanged outside or in, hut the man 
had not then risen to his present en- 
vial)le })osition in the hearts of his 

Tncked away down almost in the 
corner of the state lies the village an<l 
toAvn of AVinchester. The township. 
a large one. played its (nvn important 
part in eighteenth century history. 
Here were bloody scenes of tragedy. 
Indian ravages most ghastly made this 
locality a veritable garden of the in- 
fernal. The founding of this settle- 

Photo. hy French, I&b2. 

Winchester's Answer to Lincoln's Call. 

It was a .strange, sad spectacle on this village 
common, forty years ago, when, at four o'clock 
on the morning of September 17, 1862, Winches- 
ter's quota piled into the omnibuses en route for 
the great conflict. Five of these were killed, 
eight were wounded, two died of disease during 
the war; sixteen have died of disease since the 
■war, and nineteen of the forty-two still survive. 

Photo, by Frciuh. 

Street Scene in the Early Sixties 

View of one of Winchester's beautiful thorough- 
fares, taken near the birthplace. This beautiful 
village abounds in .scenes of rare picturesque- 
ness. The row of tall pines suggested at the right 
are veritable old monarchs — old growth trees cf 
great height. A straight row of these giants, 
about a half score in number, border the river, 
which at this point runs paraUel with the street. 

ment involved the hardiest hardihood 
of the l)ravest men that ever trod Xew 
England soil. Like every community 
in the state, it has its own peculiar 
record of heroism and dariiig. 

Perhaps you would not contemplate 
the possibility of these scenes as you 
view the quiet village of to-day. Yet 
all that Winchester is or has been is 
directly traceable to these men who 
founded her. 

The beautiful undulating valley of 
the Ashuelot seems a fitting place for 
this quiet village to nestle, undisturbed 
by a louder clamor than rises from her 
own manufactories and shops. One 
may call this a "•harbour of the hills,'' 
for your lirst tluuight, especially if 
3'ou gaze on the village from the van- 
tage ground of one of the many prom- 
ontories that surround it, is of some 
quiet sleeping- thing of beauty, tucked 
awav amid the wrinkled folds of the 
everlasting hills. 

But Winchester is not characterized 



only by the commonplace features of 
a commonplace village or town. I 
care not what your mission or errand 
may he, if you visit the town, you are 
constantly brought face to face with 
something new and pleasing. The 
antiquarian might revel eternally in 

photo, hy French. 

The Ashuelot River. 

The chief charm of this enchanting valley is 
the Ashuelot river. It flows o'er many a winding 
mile, turning, turning eeaslessly the busy wheels 
of industry, watering the fertile valley which 
bears its name, giving sport to the frequent 
angler on its banks, murmuring to the weeping 
willows that trail in its gliding waters. 

things undiscovered or forgotten. The 
historian would pause bewildered at 
the wealth of lore suggested in manv 
a site and landmark. The botanist 
and bird-lover Avould find a region 
teeming with opportunities of rarest 
research, while the geologist would 
realize keen delight in his endeavors to 
place the boundaries of that famed 

There rises somewhere far up the 
state the Ashuelot river. It flows o'er 
many a winding mile, turning here and 
there a busy water-wheel, and anon 
watering some pleasant pasture spot. 
The sportsman tarries idly on its 
lianks. It seems to tire at the merci- 
less churning and rush of noisy Keene, 
and sluggishly flows on till it reaches 
the graceful curves and shaded banks 
of AVinchester village. It is a Ijeauti- 
ful stretch of water that runs the en- 
tire length of the village, dividing it 
in two. On citlier bank lie gardens 
and grass-plots. As you approach the 
center of the village the banks for a 
l)rief space are lined with Inisiness 
blocks, which stand close on the river's 
liank. Two iron brido-es, one of mod- 
ern construction, span the river at 
points a half mile apart. The old 
Ijridge is located in the business center 
and crosses the river at a j^oint con- 
venient to the railroad station. 

"Winchester's post-ofhce is ranked 
third class, and with modern and elab- 
orate accommodations is doing a large 
and satisfactory service. Eural deliv- 
erv routes are being established this 

It was Daniel Weljster who said that 
the valley scene of the Ashuelot was 
one of the most l)eautiful he had ever 
beheld. Indeed, we love to imagine 
that as the Almighty fashioned these 
hills and leveled this valley. He 
smiled, and the sensitive earth and 
rock caught up the radiance and took 
upon themselves as an everlasting im- 

lake which in some far and distant past print their present outlines of peculiar 
covered the vallev region of Winches- beautv. 


You may name a thousand delights 
of the locality and still have to speak 
the chief charm of the place. 

A'ou will Ije well repaid if, before 
leaving Winchester, vou climb old 
Mount Michigan, or as it was termed 
later. Meetinghouse Mountain. This 



is a dec'p-wdodi'd hill ol' low altitude, is the Xational bank, town hall, hotel, 
rising ahruptly up at the rear of the library, etc. 

village, in fact, overshadowing it. The Winchester has several streets which 
older portion of the village was built afford i)leasant drives. The rich shade 
across its l)ase and of conrse remains alnmdant in this vicinity makes this 
so to-day. From the top of this hill, pastime quite popular. Drives of rare 
looking northward and west, is pre- beauty and pleasantness abound in 
sented a view of the Chesterfield hills, several directions. One of the most 
a low, uneven range of country with delightful follows the river down its 
no especially attractive features, save course to its union with the Connect- 
the vast and variagated stretches of icut. 

green. Extensive tracts of timber A sketch of commercial Winchester 
have been taken from this region in would tell you of many successes, of 
the past, leaving an unpleasing monot- some failures. But such is not the 
ony of hardwood undergrowth. An purpose of this article. Men of en- 
almost opposite view — southwest — ergy. push, and determination have 
brings into a single picture the moun- located or grown up here, and have 
tains of three states. Mount Monad- succeeded or gone elsewhere. Win- 
nock rises fifteen miles away to the Chester is a representative Xew Hamp- 
east. A most beautiful branch of the shire town — that is all. That a great 
valley joins the river here at Winches- 
ter and runs away to the south, form- 
ing a fertile stretch of meadow and til- 
lage land. An al)rupt and magnifi- 
cent background is formed by Mount 
Grace, over whose ancient top hangs a 
legend of Indian devastation, the sad- 
dest I ever heard. 

The general contour of the village 
in which General Wood was born has 
changed but little since the early six- 
ties. A few buildings have been re- 
moved, a few added. Most prominent 
among the latter class stands the Con- 
ant liljrary, a truly beautiful structure. 
The most prominent point in the vil- 
lage is formed by a triangle of streets. 
Here is a beautiful common, with 

band stand and water fount. Facing man was born here adds nothing to the 
the square is the long line of business glory of the place. Xo locality should 
buildings, forming almost one con- ever })oast of her offspring, as it is an 
tinuous block. These Ijuildings are accident, not an achievement. Gov- 
the ones described as lining the east ernor Wood's name and nativity does 
bank of the river, and facing on Main add, however, to the historic interest of 
street. On other sides of the square the town, and should give her citizens 

River View, with Old Mill and Dam. 



a deeji appreciation of the man who 
has made so much of himself for his 
country's sake. It should, it seems to 
me, deepen a love for country and rev- 
erence for the state which has given 
to tlie world so mucli of that which is 
manlv and oreat and true. 

General Wood is eager to see the 
place of his hirtli. The writer met him 
in Xew York a few months ago, and 
he expressed himself as having many 
times pictured the place and scenes of 
his nativity. He declared that, "Af- 
ter this Eastern work " (he was at the 
time about to depart for the Philip- 
pines), he intended to return to Win- 
chester, if jDossihle on some one of her 
Old Home celehrations, at which, l)y 
the way, his name and deeds are es- 

pecially recalled. Governor Wood is a 
man, and as such he cannot but con- 
trast the peculiar charms of old ISTew 
England with the rude characteristics 
of daily life among an Eastern people. 
His longing to come back, and his de- 
sire to again refresh himself amid the 
scenes of his native place, must strike 
a chord of sympathy in the heart of 
every true Xew Englander. 

To the inquiry, How may I win the 
laurels you have won, he probably 
would reply, " Go and be born in Win- 
chester, or at least in the Granite state, 
and then serve your country." And 
we might add — to fulfil the require- 
ments as Governor Wood has done — 
serve her well, doing your whole duty, 
and more, at all times. 

^ Bij Frank Walcott IIuU. 

What if the Mother shall come, some day, — - 
Dear Mother Nature, that loves us all — 

Wistfully looking to either way, 

Faring along through the crowded mall. 

Sorely bewildered to find her sons, — 

All the estranged and the heedless ones. 

Shall we not run to her, as of old, 

Glad that the mother-faith seeks us here? 

Shall we, as ingrates, that love withhold. 
Due to the nurture of childhood's year? 

Shall we not rather be kind, and say: 

" Greeting, good Mother to thee, this day." 

Come, let us rally, and quick, let's go 
Whither the voices of Nature call; 

Come with the Mother who loves us so 
Past the gray bounds and the orchard wall, 

Over the meadows and through the glen. 

Safe in the circle of home again. 


Bij Tsdlx'l AiiihJi'r Gilman. 

Yoiinii" ('u])i(l arose one July morn 
And nnised awhile in the early daw ii. 

"Vacation! I must he gone! 
The city market is dull!" said he, 
'" I'll make a trip through the north country^, 
'Mong the hilLs and lakes there's work for me, 

And the preachers, later on." 

He packed his quiver with arrows new 
And straight to the mountains north he flew, 

To a large resort hotel, 
And when he left there were downcast eyes 
And tell-tale hlushes and happy sighs. 
Congratulations and much surprise: — 

he knew his husiness well. 

He hovered ahove a fishing camp 
And shot the fisher, a lonely tramp 

With a title o'er the sea. 
" Ah, Cupid!" he cried, " What is my fate?" 

A winsome maiden of rich estate 


Said Cupid. " Old man, draw in your l)ait!" 
And the fishes danced in glee. 


Then gaily circling the lakes around 

A summer school near the shore he found. 

" Ha, ha ! Xow I'll have some fun I 
Much learning is apt to cause delay 
In heart affairs, so the wise ones say, 
I'll change their studies somewhat to-day." 

And he shot them one hy one. 

Out came the })rincipal in a rage. 

" Cupid! These hoys are not of age! 

Dear me! What are you doing? 
Don't shoot at random! please beware! 
Some bachelor maids have a camp up there; 
For nonsense we have no time to spare. 

Don't send my boys a-wooing!" 

Said Cupid, " Don't make so much ado, 
I've got an arrow, my friend, for yoii." 

And then in a cot near l)y 
A dainty spinster he quickly spied. 
" Get out of my sight, you imp!'' she cried. 
" You shot me once and my lover died, 

I'll never marry, not I!" 


" No schoolmaster shall come courtino- me!" 
" Fair madam, all that yoii want," said he, 

"Is a chance to change your mind." 
The rascal laughed as the bow he hcnt 
And straight to her heart the arrow went, 
She sank with a smile of sweet content. 

Love makes its victims blind. 

He peeped in each mansion, camp, and cot. 
And scattered sunshine in many a spot 

To comfort a heart forlorn; 
The maiden forgot her doubts and fears, 
The widow looked up and dried her tears. 
And the man who hadn't cared for years 

Felt a thrill of Jo}^ new born. 

Wherever he went, 'twas wondrous strange, 
In hearts and manners he wrought a change 

In most alarming fashion. 
And rank and fortune and family pride. 
And creeds and customs were all defied 
As Cupid's arrows on every side 

Kindled the grand old passion. 

And the " sweetest story ever told " 
Was whispered again l)y young and old. 

The ha]»py blushes bringing. 
" Marriage will never be out of style," 
Young Cupid said with a knowing smile. 
" Love rules my kingdom and all the while 

The wedding bells are ringing." 


Bij C. C. Lord. 

Once a thriving bud cx])aiided in a blossom bright and fair, 
And a bird sprang up and warbled with an accent sweet and rare, 
And a poet saw and listened to tlie comfort of despair, 
On a golden summer day. 

Then the blossom quickly yielded to the purpose to destroy 
That sul)dued the bird in silence, and, for grief without alloy, 
Then the ^joet died in mourning that refused the light of joy. 
In a golden summer dav. 

But the legend proud of ages brought the blossom into mind, 
And the lore of time unceasing unto praise the bird consigned, 
And the poet lived and flourished in the love that Ijlessed his kind. 
Every golden summer day. 


By H. G. Leslie, M. D. 

& UCH was the prelude to 
'*^ all those dear, delightful 
tales and reminiscences, 
with which the storehouse 
of memory is filled. As I 
repeat the words, like as though it were 
an incantation, comes a vision of a 
great open fireplace with the serene 
face of an old grandmother sitting on 
one side, her fast playing knitting 
needles catching the flash and flare of 
burning fagots, until they seemed 
tipped with the irridescent light of 
diamonds. Around her gather eager 
young faces, impatiently awaiting the 
promised story. 

With such scenes and surroundings 
are these words so linked, that it seems 
proper to use them only on high occa- 
sions and with a spirit of reverence. 
Nevertheless, I venture to call them 
from the jretreat to which long disuse 
has consigned them, to express as a 
fitting introduction to these lines the 
surprise and gratification with which 
I received an invitation from Captain 
Somes to join him in a blueberry pick- 
ing trip to " Great Swamp." 

I say surprise, for I knew that these 
expeditions were ordinarily conducted 
in a solitary, if not exactly a secret, 
manner. The average Shoreliner 
seemed to feel that he should leave his 
bed at a very unseemly hour and like 
the much quoted Arab, " fol4 his tent 
and silently steal away." Just how 
this abnormal sentiment originated I 

never knew, but certain it was that 
whenever a man failed to be seen in 
his accustomed haunts for a day, at 
this season of the year, it was con- 
jectured that he was blueberrying, but 
no one ever saw him go. He could re- 
turn whenever and as openly as he 
pleased, after the object of his mission 
was accomplished, without losing caste 
or being classed with the mercenary 
individuals who filled their pails for 
filthy lucre. 

The residents of Shoreline had cer- 
tain days and observances, not marked 
in the calendar by legislative enact- 
ment, but which long custom had de- 
creed to be quite as important and 
noteworthy as though authorized by 
legal edict. 

When the warm days of March had 
melted the snows in the distant moun- 
tain forest, or the spring rains had sent 
an added influx of water to the usually 
placid stream, along whose banks their 
homes were located, and the waifs and 
strays of a freshet were floating with 
the tide, man and boy left their usual 
avocations, en masse, to gather drift- 

Theoretically, no one argued but 
what a day's work in the ship yard or 
boat shops, would be productive of 
more monetary value than all the sal- 
vage a week's freshet could possibly 
give them. But then there was the 
excitement, the element of gambling, 
the possibility that some rich treasure 

G. M.— 7 


trove would unexpectedly fall into appreciated the interest which I took 

their hands. Moreover it was an es- in his recollections of earlier years, 

tablished custom; their fathers had al- and philosophical disquisitions on men 

ways indulged in the same recreation, and things in any way connected with 

and from boyhood to old age there Shoreline. 

never seemed to come a year when it By prearranged agreement, we were 

was quite right to discontinue the up in the early gray of the dawn, and 

habit. long before the first faint gleam of 

Another red letter day, in their book sunlight tipped the locust trees on the 

of recorded events, was when the crest of Cromwell's hill were well on 

mackerel or blue fish came into the our journey. 

river. Many a family in the old times A peculiar and uncanny feeling 

had procured a winter's supply of these comes over one in passing through a 

denizens of the sea in a single day's city or village at such an hour. The 

fishing. In my time, however, the spirit of dreams seems to hover in the 

great sweeping seines of the Glouces- air, and the mystery of untold trag- 

ter fishermen, had so changed condi- edies broods in the silence. The very 

tions that only meager returns could chimney tops, lacking the dim film of 

repay their most laborious toil, and the incense from the hearthstones be- 

family kits and barrels had long be- neath, appear monumental in charac- 

fore been broken up for firewood. ter. The resonance of stillness is 

Another period of anticipation and weird and unnatural. We took our 

recreation was when the high bush way by the slope of the hill, in a path 

blueberries should ripen. The same leading by the village cemetery. A 

financial theories and arguments might look of sadness came over Captain 

relate to these excursions to " Great Jared's face as he glanced over the 

Swamp," as have been previously grassy, wave-like mounds marking the 

noted, but they would tell you with resting-place of so many of his old 

much truth that no such fruit could friends. 

be purchased from the itinerant Life is like unto a forest path, into 

vender. The value of the recreation which we enter where the young trees 

was quite as much prized as the loaded stand tall and thick, with luxuriant 

baskets. foliage, while the air around them is 

It is good to leave the regular rou- laden with promise. As we pass on 

tine of life now and then and meet they become more scattered, and lichen 

nature in her own haunts. She gives and moss gather on their trunks, while 

us a balm peculiarly her own to soothe every now and then comes a bare, bleak 

and comfort the chafes and bruises of spot, and as we continue to the far 

human toil. Whenever we go to her, edge, only the cheerless irresponsive 

we return better for her ministrations, earth meets our gaze, and the autumn 

So who shall say but that they who wind, breathing through the broken 

pluck the gayly tinted leaves from the and decaying stalks of grass, brings a 

tree of life may not be the wiser. sinister, sibilant note to our ears. 

I was gratified at the invitation, as I fancied that it was some such 

it proved to me that Captain Somes thoughts as these that floated through 

''ONCE UPON A time:' 


the Captain's mind, and gave him an 
air of preoccupation as we trudged 
through the irreguhir hme, leading to 
the phiiu beyond. On either side 
were clumps of sweet elder and sumac, 
the yellow flowers of the St. Johnswort 
lifted their heads above the scant vege- 
tation by the roadside, while the yet 
uncolored tufts of goldenrod gave 
promise of a brilliant display later in 
the season. As my eye rested on 
shrub and bush in their summer holi- 
day garb, I asked, " Why should Xa- 
ture make such an effort in painting 
and decorating her face?" The ele- 
ments of the reproduction of the spe- 
cies could be just as well accomplished, 
seeds could be formed and distributed 
quite as well without all this profuse 
display and apparently wasted energy. 

'' Well,"' said Captain Jared, " I ex- 
pect it is the same sort of a disease as 
has struck all the girls and young wo- 
men in Shoreline. These flowers are 
afraid some bumblebee or butterfly 
will go by without stopping to give 
them a kiss. When the girls begin to 
get along a little beyond the spring- 
time of life, they begin to feel that 
they must have ribbons for their necks 
and roses on their bonnets, for fear 
some young man will pass by and not 
notice them. 

" Now these flowers haven't a bit 
more honey in their cups, for all the 
show they put on, but they are trying 
to fool the bees and make them think 
they have. I've seen just as good 
wives and mothers in my voyages that 
didn't know a furbelow from a hank 
of spun yarn, and then when I was a 
young man you had to find out who 
would make a good mate in the voyage 
of life without seeing them prance up 
and down the street on dress parade." 

A little way on we came to the road 
leading to the beach, better known 
locally as " Whipping Street " — a 
memorial to the times when here was 
planted the post to which offenders of 
the law were fastened, to offer expia- 
tion for their various misdemeanors 
by a sound beating. The birches, un- 
pruned by legal authority, were grow- 
ing a little way off in luxurious exuber- 
ance. It is a question whether wife 
beating and cruelty to animals should 
not receive this personal and public re- 
minder of outraged justice to-day. It 
is not in every way that we have im- 
proved on the methods of the fathers. 

After leaving this street and turn- 
ing toward the irregular border of trees 
that fringed the broad area of swampy 
land beyond, I noticed on the right of 
the pathway a depression in the earth, 
which, with a few scattered bricks, was 
the remaining trace of where a house 
had once stood. Such mementoes are 
always of pathetic interest. With no 
strain on the imagination one learns to 
regard them as the burial places of so 
many hopes and ambitions, the scene, 
perhaps, of many unrecorded trage- 
dies. The life of the home is dead 
and the stunted clumps of lilacs and a 
few straggling cinnamon roses alone 
are the memorials over the grave of 
the past. 

" Here in my boyhood," said Cap- 
tain Jared, " lived a quaint, curious 
representative of the Celtic race, Qua- 
ker Morrison, one of the three Irishmen 
who thus early made their homes in, 
or near. Shoreline. Master Walsh, the 
schoolmaster. Captain Guest, and 
Abram ]\Iorrison, all of them men of 
more than average ability, but all of 
them markedly erratic and eccentric. 

" The Morrisons were of that Scotch- 


''ONCE UPON A time:' 

Irish colony, which made a home in 
Londonderry, N. H., then called Nut- 
field. From there Abram drifted to 
this place, presumably influenced by a 
desire to be near a Quaker meeting- 
house, and to associate with those of a 
like religious belief. Why this 
strange, comical, fun-loving Irishman 
should feel the need of the sober, se- 
date thoughtfulness, the hours of silent 
meditation that belongs to this society, 
as a balm for his soul's good, was al- 
ways a mystery to me. 

" He would probably have been for- 
gotten by most people long before this, 
had not Mr. Whittier caught the spirit 
of his boyish fanciful character and 
preserved the type in one of his sweet- 
est ballads. 

" I recollect one winter afternoon 
when we bovs had been sent over into 
the woods to procure hemlock boughs, 
with which to make the family brooms 
— a weekly errand — that as we came 
back, near nightfall, we stopped to pay 
a visit to the old Quaker, who by the 
way, was a great favorite with every 
boy in these parts. He had a great 
fund of stories and an inimitable way 
of telling them, which in those days 
when children's books were unknown, 
made him a very desirable friend. On 
this occasion we found him seated on a 
box before the great roaring fireplace, 
sewing. He had a huge sparerib sus- 
pended by a string, roasting in front 
of the fire, and every now and then he 
gave it a turn, or basted it from the 
dripping dish beneath. That no time 
might be lost in his culinary affairs, 
he had taken off his trousers and was 
giving them a needed patch. His 
broad-brimmed hat was shoved far 
back on his head, a pair of enormous 
steel-bowed spectacles rested almost on 

the tip of his nose, while his thin^ 
cracked voice was trilling the notes of 
some strange Irish song. A good 
many years have passed, but that scene 
is still firmly fixed in my memory. 

" Xo one has or could picture the 
character of Abram Morrison better 
than Mr. Whittier. In fact, he told 
the story with so much truth that some 
of his relatives were not quite pleased. 
I learned the lines when they were first 
published in the Villager years ago. 

" ' Half a genius quick to plan. 
Blundering like an Irishman, 
But with canny shrewdness, lent 
By his far-off Scotch descent — 
Such was Abram Morrison.' 

'^ One thing which he said is not 

absolutely true. The Quaker had a 

local reputation- as a poet, and Mr. 
"Whittier says: 

" ' All his words have perished, shame 
On the saddle-bags of fame. 
That they bring not to our time 
One poor couplet of the rhyme 
Made by Abram Morrison,' 

as I can recall at least one couplet of 
his rhymes which he recited to a group 
of us boys. At one period he occupied 
a part of a shop with Ensign Morrill 
and to this relates the lines I remem- 

" ' Ensign Morrill and his son 

See what wonders they have done. 
Poor old Abram do^vn below 
Little or nothing for him to do.' 

" Just the occasion of this poetic 
outburst I do not remember. 

" He had quite an inventive turn of 
mind, but all of his machines and de- 
signs were marked by the same eccen- 
tricity that gave him fame. I well re- 

''ONCE UPON A time:' 


call the interest taken by the neigh- 
bors in his perambulating pig pen, so 
constructed on wheels that the pigs 
could root it from place to place as 
pleased their fancy best, but still at- 
tached to the house by ropes, so that 
he could bring them home to feed. 

'' ' Midst the men and things which will 
Haunt an old man's memory still. 
Drollest, quaintest of them all 
With a boy's laugh I recall 
Good old Abram Morrison.' " 

The Captain picked up his basket 
and bundle which he had placed on 
the ground while talking and we re- 
newed our journey toward the blue- 
berry bushes a little way beyond. At 
the edge of the swampy ground he 
pullled off his ordinary footwear and 
donned a pair of long rubber boots, 
and plunged into one of the bosky 
lanes, on the sides of which grew the 
coveted prizes. 

Thoreau, in one of his most charm- 
ing books, " The Maine Woods," says 
that the Vicuninun C orytihosum is a 
habitat of northern Massachusetts and 
Maine and grows in very moist soil. 
In this locality at least his botanical 
observations were verified, for the Cap- 
tain was wading through nearly a foot 
of slime and water. To my mind it 
it seemed a veritable snakes' hole, and 
as I have a feminine horror for rep- 
tiles and creepy things, I had no in- 
clination to follow him. As I peered 

into one of the dusky recesses, I saw a 
huge green frog seated on a tussock of 
grass. His solemn and meditative air 
led me to think that he was reflecting 
on his unappreciated efforts as a mu- 
sician. ' I thought to myself that if 
every man who had made a failure of 
his cherished hopes and ambitions 
wore as lugubrious a countenance as 
this poor Batrachian, smiles would be 
few indeed. A nest of half fledged 
crows, in a pine tree near by, kept 
up an incessant note of complaint. I 
could hear the slosh and suck of the 
Captain's boots in the mud and water 
behind a clump of bushes. That he 
had marked the slowly forming fruit 
on this particular group, since the shad 
bush had lent a sweet perfume to the 
air, and the strange clumps of blos- 
soms on the button bushes lined the 
way I knew, now he was securing the 
reward of patient waiting. 

The sun had long since passed its 
meridian height, and sent long shadows 
from its westering angle, as we took 
our way homeward. When we came in 
sight of the river a freight of salt hay 
was coming up from the marshes, the 
rowers swaying with rhythmic motion 
to their oars, while every now and then 
across the slow moving tide we caught 
the refrain of an old river song: 

" Baked beans and apple dowdy, 
Sing, yell and play the rowdy. 
Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho." 

Brj Fred Myron Colby. 

Over many lands I've wandered, 

And sailed from sea to sea; 
I've seen the sunlight glisten 

On the waves of Zuyder Zee; 
But 'mid distant scenes and pleasures, 

And whereso'er I roam, 
There's no place to me so pleasant 

As my old New Hampshire Home. 

I've dreamed by Scotia's fairy lochs, 

In England's stately halls; 
I've seen the priceless works of art 

On the Louvre's gleaming walls; 
But never in hall or castle. 

Or 'neath shining spire and dome. 
Have I found the sweet contentment 

Of my old Xew Hampshire home. 

There's many a lovely prospect 

Among the hills of Spain; 
And fair are the blooming orchards 

Of Xormandy and Maine; 
But not in cot or homestead 

Beyond the swelling foam, 
Can vou find the cosv comfort 

Of my old Xew Hampshire home. 

bright are the streams of Hellas, 
Girt with their woods of jDine; 

And gay are the Tuscan vineyards 
'Neath purple Appenine; 

But fairer than the landscapes 

You see in pictured tome, 

Are the hilltops and the valleys 
Of my old Xew Hampshire home. 

They say the sun shines warmly 

O'er Bagdat's domes of snow; 
And fields of roses scent the air, 

Where the Pharpar's waters flow; 
But sweeter are the violets 

That grow by the brooklet's foam, 
And fairer still the sunshine 

Of my old New Hampshire home. 


New Hampshire! New Hampshire! 

I love to think of thee; 
As I wander o'er the mountains, 

As I linger by the sea; 
And my heart will always hunger, 

When in foreign lands I roam. 
For the comforts and the blessings 

Of my old New Hampshire home. 


By Beta Chapin. 

Where all is still beside a hill. 

Where fierce winds never blow, 
In a sunny nook, with a tidy look, 

Is a cottage home I know; 
A country seat, a farmhouse neat 

With ample portico, 
Where woodbines twine and many a vine 

Does grateful shade bestow. 

There maple treen with leafy green 

Are standing in a row; 
There tall elms spread their boughs o'erhead, 

And sweetest flowers grow 
Near the riverside where waters glide 

Along in a ceaseless flow. 
loved retreat, delightful seat ! 

What scenes surround it so! 

There orchard trees whose fruits that please 

Weigh down the branches low; 
There roses bloom, and rare perfume 

Upon the breezes throw; 
There birds of song their notes prolong, 

And much of gladness show; 
In beauty drest, in brilliant vest. 

They oft fly to and fro. 

From such a home afar to roam 

Who would be fain to go? 
In winter time of ice and rime, 

When fields' are clothed with snow; 
When spring is there, or summer fair. 

Or autumn colors glow, — 
The whole year round delight is found 

And peace at Riverbow. 



Otis G. Hammond. 

HAT John Paul Jones, the 
George Washington of the 
United States navy, 
should ever have been 
placed under arrest, by 
civil or any other, process, on New 
Hampshire soil, is a fact little known 
and much to be regretted by the people 
of the Granite state. This was the 
state which not only gave him the 
Ranger, his first command under a 
United States commission, but also his 
three lieutenants, master, surgeon, 
three midshipmen, twenty-three of his 
crew, and twelve apprentice boys. 
What wonder, if here in our little, old, 
hilly state, with an insignificant strip 
of only eighteen miles of rocky sea- 
coast, we feel a pride in the brilliant 
achievements of our first naval hero, 
and a sense of claim and affection such 
as we have for our nearest kinsmen! 

It was from Portsmouth, our only 
seaport, that he sailed forth on a career 
of seven years of conquest, and the 
oaken planks of his ship, hard as 
the hills on which they grew, were a 
fit setting for the indomitable courage 
and relentless purpose of the man who 
trod them. But great minds are often 
troubled by little things, and the king 
of beasts cannot protect himself from 
the flea. There is, however, no evi- 
dence that this matter was any source 
of anxiety to Commodore Jones, but 
it was a worrisome thing to his counsel 
for a time, until the legislature came 
to his relief. 

We have, here in New Hampshire, 

two facts of consolation in this mat- 
ter. It was not a New Hampshire 
man who was the cause of annoyance 
to John Paul Jones, although the 
warrant was issued by a New Hamp- 
shire Judge, and served by a New 
Hampshire sheriff. This was a mere 
accident due to the fact that when the 
plaintiff decided to apply the balm of 
law to his injuries, Commodore Jones 
was stationed at Portsmouth on a tem- 
porary duty under the orders of con- 
gress. This necessitated the appli- 
cation to New Hampshire courts. 
But it was a New Hampshire man who 
came to his assistance. Gen. John Sul- 
livan, a man who will never be for- 
gotten by the people of his native 
state, though to his memory no ade- 
quate memorial exists save in the 
hearts of his countrymen. Nor is 
General Sullivan alone in neglect, for, 
of all our Revolutionary heroes and 
patriots. Stark alone is suitably repre- 
sented in bronze or stone. Where are 
our statues, busts, monuments of John 
Langdon, whose private fortune, even 
to his plate, voluntarily offered for 
that purpose, enabled New Hampshire 
to equip the troops sent under Stark 
to stop Burgoyne and save the new 
nation of the western world from dis- 
memberment in its infancy, the man 
whose private purse gave Stark the 
opportunity which made him famous; 
of Meshech Weare, chairman of the 
committee of safety all through the 
war; of Col. Alexander Scammell, ad- 
jutant-general of Washington's army; 



of Gen. Enoch Poor, of whom Wash- 
ington said, '' An officer of distin- 
guished merit, who, as a citizen and 
a soldier, had every claim to the esteem 
of his country," and of whom Lafay- 
ette said, standing by the grave with 
tears in his eyes, " Ah ! That was one 
of my generals!'' To our discredit 
we must answer, " There are none." 

But the deeds of these men are not 
yet all known. Occasionally an inci- 
dent comes to the surface of the dust 
of the past, like the one here written, 
which but adds lustre to their mem- 
ory, and shows us the human as well 
as the heroic in their nature. 

Ebenezer Hogg of Boston, mariner, 
renders an account against John Paul 
Jones, Esquire, for £21 18 due him 
for services as steward on board the 
Bon Homme Richard from February 
15 to July 11, 1779, at fifteen Spanish 
milled dollars a month as per agree- 
ment. The bill is dated L'Orient, 
July 11, 1779, and is sworn to before 
Robert Fletcher, clerk of the inferior 
court in Hillsborough county, IST. H., 
April 4, 1783. An attachment on the 
estate of John Paul Jones, in the sum 
of £30 0, dated November 5, 1782, 
was issued by Jonathan Lovewell, one 
of the Justices of the inferior court of 
Hillsborough countv. It was directed 
to John Parker, sheriff of Rockingham 
county, for service, and in it Commo- 
dore Jones is described as of Ports- 
mouth, IST. H. By this document it is 
alleged " that the said Jones at Ports- 
mouth aforesaid on the first day of 
October last being indebted to the 
plaintiff in the sum of twenty one 
pounds eighteen shillings lawful money 
according to the account annexed in 
consideration thereof then and there 
promised the j)laintiff to pay him that 

sum on demand And also for that the 
said Jones there afterwards on the 
same day in consideration that the 
plaintiff at the special instance & 
request of the said Jones had before 
that time done for him other labour 
& service such as aforesaid then & 
there promised the plaintiff to pay 
him so much money for the last men- 
tioned labour & service as he rea- 
sonably deserved to have for the same » 
on demand Xow the plaintiff avers 
that he ought to have another sum of 
twenty one pounds eighteen shillings 
like money whereof the said Jones had 
due notice Yet tho' often requested 
has not paid either of the afores*^ sums 
but still neglects & refuses so to do " 

Sheriff Parker made return Xovem* 
ber 6, 1782. that he had taken the 
body of John Paul Jones, and had 
taken Major-General John Sullivan 
for bail. 

Commodore Jones had been on duty 
at Portsmouth for about four months, 
engaged in superintending the launch- 
ing and fitting out of the ship America, 
which he had been appointed to com- 
mand. He was out of his element as 
a naval constructor, and declared that 
this was the most disagreeable duty of 
his life. The contests with men and 
materials in the lumber yard were but 
a provocation to the spirit that longed 
for the conquests" of the sea. But he 
persevered in his work, soothed in a 
measure by the thought that he was 
building his own ship, then the finest 
in the navy, by the help of which he 
might further pursue the career lie 
loved. Tlien, when his ship was done, 
and manned with his old and trusted 
officers and what were left of his 
former crews on the Ranger and the 
Bon Homme Richard, came what was 



perhaps the greatest disappointment 
of his life, a resolve of congress and a 
letter from Eobert Morris directing 

. him to deliver his ship to the Chevalier 
de Martigne, whose former command, 
the Magnifique, had recently been 
wrecked at the entrance to Boston har- 
bor. On the 5th of November, 1783, 
he gave up his ship, and went to Phila- 
delphia the next day. 

1 All these things serve to prove to us 
the state of mind John Panl Jones 
must have been in, when, on the day 
of his departure for Philadelphia, 
Sheriff Parker touched him on the 
shoulder at the instance of one Eben- 
ezer Hogg, mariner, of Boston. In his 
extremity he turned to John Sullivan, 
who had retired from active service a 
disappointed man, and resumed the 
practice of his profession. 

The case came up before the inferior 
court of Hillsborough county, Justices 
Jonathan Lovewell, James Underwood, 
Timothy Farrar, and Jeremiah Page 
sitting, on the first Tuesday of April, 
1783. Commodore Jones did not ap- 
pear to defend himself, for, after plac- 
ing the matter in General Sullivan's 
hands, he had gone to Philadelphia in 
accordance with his orders, and other 
opportunities of service failing, he was 
at that time serving as a volunteer offi- 
cer on the French flag-ship in the West 
Indies. His counsel did not appear 
for reasons which he will hereafter re- 
late. Consequently the case went to 
the plaintiff by default, and Hogg was 
awarded damages in the sum of 
£21 18 0, and costs of £3 16 0. 

General Sullivan, not being able to 
produce his principal, found himself 
liable for the entire amount of dam- 
ages and costs. This was a serious 
matter to him, for he was a generous, 

improvident man, to whom a dollar in 
hand was a dollar to spend, and he de- 
cided to fight the case out rather than 
submit to an unjust verdict, and one 
which reflected such discredit on the 
state. In his own words he will tell 
us of the affair, for we have his peti- 
tion to the legislature for authority to 
reenter the case and try it on its 

To the Honorable the Council and 
House of Representatives now as- 
sembled at Concord within and for the 
State of Xew Hampshire on the third 
Wednesday of December A: D: 1783— 

Humbly Shews John vSullivan of 
Durham in the County of Strafford 
Escf That upon the recall of John 
Paul Jones Esq'" from Portsmouth 
where he had been sent by Congress to 
take charge of the ship America; it was 
communicated to your petitioner in 
confidence how & in what manner 
that Gentleman was to be employed, 
for the advantage of the United States. 
That on the Day of the said Jones^ de- 
parture from Portsmouth, he applyed 
to your petitioner & informed him 
that he was arrested at the suit of one 
Ebenezer Hogg of Boston, for wages 
due to him for his services on board A 
Vessel of War, which the said Jones 
commanded in the service of the united 
states. That your petitioner being 
well Acquainted with the necessity of 
the said Jones^ speedy arrival in Phila- 
delphia, and sensible that it would do 
no honor to the state to have a Gentle- 
man who had been intrusted with the 
command of the first ship of the Line 
constructed in America; arrested & 
confin'd at the moment of his Intended 
departure, and being also sensible that 
by a resolve of your honorable Body, 



no person in x4ctual service was to be 
arrested or detained, & Learning The 
uniform practice of the Courts, that no 
Judgment could be given against any 
person imployed in the army, or Navy 
of the united states; while they con- 
tinued in such imployment; became 
Bail for the said Jones; & from a per- 
suasion that no court would suffer 
Judgment to be entered against said 
Jones, while employed in the Defence 
of the united states; neglected to at- 
tend at the Inferior Court at Amherst, 
where the Action was triable; but the 
Justices of that Court at their session 
in April Last, notwithstanding it was 
well known that the said Jones was 
then in the service of the united states; 
Entered Judgment against him by de- 
fault, and issued Execution thereon, 
by. means whereof your petitioner as 
attorney to said Jones is deprived of 
the advantage of Trying the merits of 
the original Action and as Bail is 
Liable to pay ^ the whole Demand. 
Wlierefore Your petitioner most hum- 
bly prays that the said Judgment may 
be Annulled;. & that he as attorney to 
said Jones may be Let in to dispute 
the Merits of the original Action; the 
former Judgment & Execution thereon 
notwithstanding: and Your petitioner 
as in Duty bound will pray. 

Jn° Sullivan in be- 
half of himself and 
Jn° Paul Jones 

Concord June 10''^ 1783 

A hearing on the petition was or- 
dered, and was adjourned from time 
to time, one party or the other being 
unable to attend. John Prentice was 
attorney for the plaintiff, and explains 
the absence of his principal and him- 

self in November in a letter to the 
speaker of the house. 

Londonderry S'"'^ November 1783 — 
The Hon^'^ John Dudley Esq"" 
Speaker of the House of Representa- 
tives — 

Sir I Just rec"^ the Inclosed Noti- 
fication informing that the Petition of 
the Hon' General Sullivan respecting 
Ebenezer Hogg is to be heard on Wed- 
nesday next I would inform the 
Hon'^'^ Assembly that the said Hogg at- 
tended all the last "Week or on the Day 
appointed — is now gone to Rhode 
Island & Cannot be notified — I am 
obliged to attend the Supreme Court 
at Salem in the County of Essex & 
Cannot attend your Hon" Wherefore 
in his behalf beg your Hon""^ to post- 
pone the hearing to some future Day 
that Hogg himself may be present <s, 
have a fair Trial from your most obe- 
dient humble Servant 

John Prentice 

In his turn the defendant was un- 
able to be present either in person or 
by counsel in December, and General 
Sullivan explained his necessary ab- 
sence to the speaker and submitted 
some evidence and argument for the 
granting of the petition. The deposi- 
tions referred to are not now to be 

Durham Decem-" 3<^ 1783 
Sir — As my Journey to Annapolis 
will prevent my attending the General 
Court, on the day appointed for the 
hearing my Petition in behalf of Cap* 
Jn° Paul Jones — I have taken the lib- 
erty to send by M"" Ebenezer Smith 
some Depositions relative to M"" Hoggs 
Conduct and requested him to answer 
in my behalf — my only wish is That 


Cap* Jones may have a Trial of the Finally the matter was brought to 

merits as he was defaulted by mistake consideration April 2, 1784, and the 

& in my opinion contrary to the Laws plaintiff presented his case in a counter- 

of the State as he was then in actual petition which we are fortunate 

service — By the Depositions from Phil- enough to find, 
adelphia it will appear that M"" Hogg 

by desertion forfeited his whole wages The Honorable the Council & house 
but even if that was not the case Cap' of Eepresentatives in General Assem- 
Jones could be no more Liable to such bly, convened at Exeter on the last 
an action than a Commanding officer Tuesday of March A D 1784 — 
is to the suits of his soldiers. M"" Hogg Humbly shews Ebenezer Hogg of 
pretends that the ship which Cap* Boston in the County of Suffolk & 
Jones commanded was private prop- commonwealth of Massachusetts Bay 
erty but surely any person in the Least that upon a Citation from the Honor- 
acquainted with the American affairs able General Assembly at Concord con- 
must be sensible that his assertion has vened the last October A D 1783 to 
no foundation in truth. I know that Shew cause why the prayer of John 
she has ever been considered as a ves- Sullivan Esq"" at Durham in the county 
sel of war in the service of the united of Stafford in Behalf of himself & John 
States, by Congress: & the officers & Paul Jones Esq'' should not be granted: 
men had Rank Rations & pay the same Respecting a Judgment of Court recov- 
as in other of our ships of war — But ered against John Paul Jones Esq'" at 
even if she was a private ship I know Amherst court last April Term, pray- 
of no Law by which a Commander is ing the Said Execution to be Annulled, 
made Liable for the wages of the mar- which the Said John Sullivan Esq^ was 
liners unless by special Contract — and Returned Bail, & hatn availed himself 
even if it was possible for him to prove by Reviving his Petition to this HonbP 
such agreement it must have been for- Assembly in my Absence, to prevent 
feited by M"" Hogg's Desertion, which my taking my remedy against him as 
is fully proved by the Testimonies Bail; till the year is almost Expired, 
which M"" Smith will lay before the as- after which Period the law hath not 
sembly — I Therefore flatter myself that pointed out any Remedy against the 
upon every possible view of the Case Bail; Your Petitioner begs leave to in- 
the assembly must be satisfied that M"" form the Honorable council & Assem- 
Hoggs suit is vexatious & that a Recov- bly that he hath made use of every 
ery against Cap* Jones would be un- Legal Measure in the Prosecution of 
just; & I have too high an opinion of John Paul Jones Esq'' Firstly, Wrote 
the Justice of our Legislature to sup- him a letter, afterwards waited on him, 
pose that so reasonable a request as Finding no other Alternative, but to 
that of granting an injured officer a prosecute him or Finally lose the De- 
fair tryal will admit of dispute — mand; on his Departure he was Ar- 
I have the honor to be with the most rested to Answer to your Petitioner at 
perfect esteem sir Amherst Court in January Term A D 
Your most obed* serv* 1783 which was continued till April, 
Jn° Sullivan interim conversed John Sullivan Esq"" 


■who informed me they did not dispute the inferior court of common pleas for 
the Justice of the Demand but the Hillsborough county at the term to 
process was Illegal: Your Petitioner be held at Amherst on the first Tues- 
Attended at April Term with his Evi- day of July, 1784, with full power to 
dence to support his Demand & the try the merits of the case as though 
Said John Paul Jones Esq"" was De- no judgment had been rendered, and 
faulted, & Execution Issued, & your the former decree of the court was an- 
Petitioner hath been prevented of his nulled. It was provided, however, 
Eemedy ags* John Sullivan Esq'' by that in case the plaintiff should again 
his Frequent Petitions to the Former recover General Sullivan should be 
& present Honbl^ Assembly to Annul held answerable as bail for one year af- 
your Petitioners Execution; & to re- ter final judgment, and that the plain- 
store the Said John Paul Jones Esq'' tiff should have liberty to tax the costs 
to law & John Sullivan Esq'' to be let of both trials should he be successful. 
in as Attorney to Dispute the Original The case appeared on the docket of 
Action, Your Petitioner Prays that as the July term, but was continued from 
he hath given every Legal chance to term to term until September, 1785, 
the Said John Sullivan Esq"" to Defend, wh§n it was marked " neither party 
& hath been long Detained from his appeared " and dropped from the 
Just Demand, Attended with great docket. 

Expences, to recover his Eight, that he Our state is small and it barely 

may have immediate Remedy against touches the sea, but it has always given 

John Sullivan Esq'' as Bail, Your Peti- of its sons as readily to the navy as to 

tioners present urgent Business pre- all other professions or walks of life, 

vents his present Attendance on the Six rear-admirals of the United States 

HonbP Assembly & is Soon going to navy took their first breath of life from 

Depart this Quarter on Business; your the New Hampshire hills, Enoch G. 

Petitioner as in Duty Bound shall Ever Parrott, George F. Pearson, George W. 

pray — Storer, Robert H. Wyman, George E. 

Ebenezer Hogg Belknap, and John G. "Walker, besides 

April 2^ 1784 — John M. Browne, surgeon-general. 

And we are related by marriage to Ad- 
After hearing all that was to be said miral Dewey, for his first wife was a 
on both sides the general court granted daughter of good old Governor Good- 
the request of General Sullivan, and he win, who presided over the destinies of 
was authorized to bring in a bill for re- the state in 1859 and 1860. ISTor 
entering the case. This he lost no must we forget Capt. James S. Thorn- 
time in doing, and it was passed into ton, executive officer of the Hartford, 
an act April 9, 1784, and approved and of the Kearsarge, another New 
April 13. During all the time the Hampshire ship, in her conquest of the 
matter had been before the general Alabama. And last, but perhaps 
court any further action against Jones bravest of them all. Commander Tunis 
or Sullivan had been suspended by A. McD. Craven, who, with his ship 
order. The act authorized Commo- sinking in Mobile bay, met his pilot at 
dore Jones to again enter his case in the foot of the ladder leading to the 


turret, stepped back, saying, " After the iron-clad it passed away. But the 

you, pilot!" and went down with his ship on the stocks still lives on the 

ship, truly the Sydney of the Ameri- seal of the state, though the industry 

can navy. which it represents will never return; 

Shipbuilding was once a large and and the spirit of the old ship-masters 

profitable business in ]S^ew Hampshire, of Portsmouth is in the blood of the 

but with the advent of the steamer and people from Coos to the sea. 


By Lydia Frances Camp. 

From the dim and distant past, 
Through the mist that time has cast. 
Visions oft before me rise, — 
Scenes which met my youthful eyes. 
Kow the old home place I see, 
Peopled as it used to be, — 
Parents, children, each and all. 
Gathered by some mystic call. 

AVint'ry winds sway branches bare; 
Peath'ry flakes flit through the air. 
Yet heed they not the storm outside 
Clustered 'round the hearthstone wide. 
Brightly burns the Are to-night; 
Tallow candles add their light. 
While mingling shadows rise and fall 
Upon the fire-illumined wall. 

Father in a genial mood 
Seeks for all the greatest good. 
Youngster climbs u^Don his knees, — 
" Tell a story, papa, please," — 
Others nearer draw their chairs. 
As he tells them how the bears, 
"When he was a little boy, 
Would their grandpa's crops destroy. 

Mother with a constant zeal 
Labors for her loved ones' weal. 
Out and in the needles flit, 
As her busy fingers knit 
Stockings, from a bright-hued yarn 
Which very soon her hands must darn. 
This the picture memory grants. 
By a retrospective glance. 


By Annie M. Edgerly. 

T was mid-summer: the 
Child had accompanied 
his parents to church, ac- 
cording to the custom of 
the time, and was perched 
on tlie extreme edge of the seat in the 
high, straight-backed, and deeply pan- 
eled pew. The choir in the gallery on 
the left had been joined in the psalm 
singing bv the congregation, and dur- 
ing the long opening prayer the Child 
had remained in his uncomfortable po- 
sition of rigidity. 

High over his head, behind the pul- 
pit, under the great sounding-board, 
the good old elder had reached the 
" Fourthly "" in his exposition of the 
text, and at this point the tender 
muscles in the weary little body of the 
Child relaxed ever so slightly. The 
day was very warm and there were no 
tall shade trees with overhanging, leafy 
branches to screen the large two-storied 
wooden structure from the fervid rays 
of the sun. but a cool breeze stole softly 
up into the open windows from the 
valley below, and the Child gazed far 
out over the peaceful hills where, in 
the distance, against a background of 
pearl-tinted clouds. Mount Teneriffe 
raised its lofty summit to the sky. His 
thoughts wandered also, for you all 
must know that eveii in a sermon there 
are many, many things which, when 
one is only a child, one may not quite 

Only the day before he had played 
on a little rustic bridge with the boy 
older than he, who, in a frock coat — 
the Child still wore a spencer — was just 
now seated in front of him. They had 

lingered a long time, listening to the 
sweet song of the brook as, quivering 
and sparkling above its rocky bed, it 
slipped away to seek the deep and 
quiet shade of the pines. He remem- 
bered that his companion of yesterday 
had told him how, long ago, the great 
bears from the mountain region used 
to come down to drink from this very 
brook. Eattlesnake brook, he had 
called it, and that near the border of 
the stream, farther down, the Indians 
had hollowed several mortars from an 
immense boulder at a convenient dis- 
tance from their wigwams. This boy, 
Augustus, with the rosy cheeks, had 
said furthermore that it all must be 
true, for it was according to tradition. 
Tradition! He never before had 
heard that Avord. There are so many 
things for a child to learn, and often 
it is so hard to understand. He would 
ask his father to explain to him the 
meaning of this new word. The Child 
glanced at the end of the pew where 
his father, clad in a suit of broadcloth, 
with blue sw;allow-tailed coat, dove 
colored vest with gold buttons, high 
stock, and ruffled shirt bosom, was 
seated in an attitude that betokened 
profound meditation. 

So deeply absorbed in the parson's 
discourse did he appear to be, that he 
seemed totally oblivious of his sur- 
roundings; and, in order that his mind 
might not be distracted bv the sight of 
objects about him, he thoughtfully had 
closed his eyes. Then the Child, in a 
very solemn and decorous manner he- 
fitting the occasion, slid gently along 
*"the edge of the seat until liis little soft, 


warm body nestled against the shim- for the curly golden head of her first- 
mering folds of the sprigged silken born. A moment more, with the gentle 
gown of his mother, with its quaint swaying of the mother's sandal-wood 
fan-shaped bodice and voluminous fan, and with the parson's " Seventh- 
skirt, ly," there came to the little one the deep 

The mother of the Child smiled upon sweet sleep of childhood. One chubby 
him and bent over him her stately fist, that until now had remained 
head crowned with heavy masses of tightly clenched, opened slowly and 
soft brown hair, arranged in an emi- his dear, beautiful golden-Thrown ^beetle 
nently becoming manner which dif- which he had found that morning un- 
fered widely from the then prevailing der the cinnamon rose bush at home, 
style. From the depths of the black again knew the light of day, and 
satin pocket that hung from her arm, feasted on the crumbs from the seed- 
she extracted a seed-cake and gave it cake as they lay on his little yellow 
to the Child, who had returned her catechism. 

smile and was now gazing in silent rap- The sermon ended, the pastor in- 

ture up into that sweet face so deli- voked a blessing from the Divine Pres- 

cately fair, yet expressive of a fine dig- ence in behalf of his little flock; and 

nity. . the Child, awakening suddenly and 

One little round cheek was pressed meeting with large questioning blue 

lovingly against the flowing bell sleeve ej'es the luminous dark ones of his 

with the undersleeve of embroidered mother as he listened to the impressive 

mull, and her white silk shawl, deeply words, there read clearly the meaning 

bordered and heavily fringed and hav- of the benediction. And the Child 

ing a faint scent of lavender, slipping understood, 
from her shoulders, made a soft pillow 


By George Bancroft Griffith. 

With open cup one flower receives 

The pearly drops of dew; 
More beautiful, afar it breathes 

Its fragrance rich and new. 

Another blossom closes up. 

And so the dewdrops fail 
To fill its lovely, tinted cup; 

'Twill in the sunlight pale. 

Wide as the dew God's goodness rains 

Upon the opening heart; 
And sweets to others, washed of stains, 

It grandly may impart! 

By Clark B. Cochrane. 

AVlieu sui'tly fall the shades of niglit 

Along the hills and valleys fair, 
Care folds her dusty rohes for flight 

And rest is in the quiet air; 
'"Tis then in some sweet reverie 

We dream of years forever fled, 
Of friends heyond the hills or sea 

Or sleeping with the changeless dead. 

Then, Memory, charmer of my soul, 

I walk with thee the fields of time — 
I feel thy magic touch control 

My spirit like a vesper chime; 
And while I dream the night away 

The friends of old come hack to me, 
And voices of another day 

Breathe in my silent reverie. 

How tenderly, how lovingly. 

They speak of long departed years — 
Friends forever, they seem to me 

Xow wreathed in smiles, now hathed in tears; 
And I am standing once again 

Full-statured at my mother's knee. 
And feel, in sweet surcease of pain. 

Thy thrill of life, Liberty! 

Anew we climb the breezy hills, 

Green sloping to the glorious sun, 
The music of a thousand rills 

Comes floatino- through mv brain as one; 
And friends and playmates, scattered wide, 

Come sailing o'er the summer seas; 
I hear their bounding steps of pride. 

Their laughter like a mountain breeze. 

Once more I hear my father call 

Along the dewev fields at morn: 
I walk with him, the loved of all. 

Through meadows, by the tasseled corn: 
Bnt, lo! The bannered morning comes! 

.My dreams, they vanish far around. 
Like silence, when the mai'tial drums 

Confuse the listening air with sound. 

My dreams, they fly — and care returns 
To make her daily round witli s^ife, 

While lal)or on her altar burns 

The fiesh and blood and brawn of life. 



And, crowned with bays of age sublime. 
My father l)ends his wearied knee. 

While, from his silent camp, old Time 
Hath stolen another march on me. 

No matter. Let onr seasons fly! 

God never set them to endure — 
But make our asj^irations high 

And let our inmost thoughts be pure. 
Then what comes, let come! Clod is just. 

He knows our thoughts and what we are; 
Beneath our feet the gaping dust — 

Above us Heaven's resjDlendent star! 

 — ~ :;>^M \ 


Alfred Trask Batchelder, born in Sunapee, September 24, 1846, died in Keene, 
July 10, 1903. 

Mr. Batchelder was the son of Nathaniel and Sarah (Trask) Batchelder. He 
fitted for college at New London and graduated from Dartmouth in the class of 
187 1. He studied law with Hon. W. H. H. Allen at Newport and Hon. Ira 
Colby of Claremont, was admitted to the bar in 1873 and commenced practice at 
Claremont with Mr. Colby, removing to Keene in 1877, where he was associated 
with the late Hon. Francis A. Faulkner, and his son, Francis C. Faulkner, under 
the firm name of Faulkner &: Batchelder, which was for many years, succeeding 
the old firm of Wheeler & Faulkner, the leading law firm in Cheshire county. 

Mr. Batchelder was active in many industrial and business enterprises in 
Keene, and prominent in Republican politics, serving as mayor of the city in 1885 
and 1886, and as a representative in the last four legislatures, in each of which 
he served with conspicuous ability as chairman of the judiciary of the house. 
He was also, each year, chairman of the Republican legislative caucus. For 
several years he was register of bankruptcy under the federal government, suc- 
ceeding the late Judge Allen in that office. 

Mr. Batchelder was a prominent member of the Masonic order, and was an 
attendant upon the Episcopal church. 

April 24, 1879, ^6 united in marriage with Alice H., daughter of the late Peter 
B. Hayword of Keene, who survives him, with two sons, Nathaniel H. and James 
H., the former a graduate of Dartmouth of the present year. 



Herman J- Odell, a well-known business man of Franklin, died in that city 
June 23, 1903. 

Mr. Odell was a son of Jacob and Elmira (Aiken) Odell, born in Sanbornton, 
February 4, 1846. He was educated at the Sanbornton academy and New Hamp- 
ton institute. In early life he engaged in the dry goods trade in Franklin, was 
subsequently, for many years, a traveling salesman for the Franklin Woolen com- 
pany, and later became the general manager of the Concord Land and Water 
Power company, raising the money for the development of Sewalls falls, and 
carrying out the project. 

He retired from the latter position in 1895, and removed to Laconia, but re- 
turned to Franklin in 1897, where he bought the Webster House, and transformed 
it into a fine modern hotel. The Odell, which he managed, besides being actively 
interested in many important industrial and business enterprises. 

He was a Republican in politics and represented Ward one, Franklin, in the 
legislature of 1899. 

He married June 2, 1869, Miss Lucie H. Fay of Franklin, who survives, with 
an adopted daughter. Miss Maud Odell. 


Hon. John W. Sanborn, superintendent of the Northern division of the Bos- 
ton & ^Laine railroad, died at his home in the town of Wakefield, July 9, 1903. 

Mr. Sanborn, who was long one of the most conspicuous and influential citi- 
zens of New Hampshire, in public and political affairs as well as in railroad mat- 
ters, was born in the town where he always lived, and where he died, January 16, 
1822, being the son of Daniel Hall and Lydia ( Dorr) Sanborn, and a lineal de- 
scendant of Lieut. John Sanborn, who, with his two brothers, Stephen and 
William, came to Hampton from England in 1640. His first American ancestor 
on the maternal side was Deacon John Hall of Dover, first of the famous Hall 
family, who came from England in 1650. He was educated in the public schools 
and Dow academy, taught school in winter for a few terms, and engaged in farming 
at the family homestead, subsequently engaging in the purchase and sale of cattle 
and later going extensively into the lumbering business. 

Mr. Sanborn become interested in railroad matters early in the seventies, 
when he began a career which has placed him in the front rank of astute railroad 
managers. His efforts were first directed toward procuring the extension of the 
Portsmouth, Great Falls & Conway railroad and the construction of the Wolfe- 
borough road. In 1874 he was made superintendent of the Conway division of 
the Eastern railroad, which afterward became the Northern division of the Boston 
(Sc Maine, and he has been superintendent of the Northern division ever since. 
The highest confidence was reposed in him by the managers of the Boston & 
Maine, who gave him full control in matters pertaining to the division under his 
charge, his headquarters being at Sanbornville, a village in Wakefield, built up 
through his enterprise after the advent of the railroad. 

Mr. Sanborn, originally a Whig, united with the Democratic party upon the 


dissolution of the Whig party, and in 1856 was chosen one of the selectmen of the 
town. In 1S61 and 1S62 he was Wakefield's representative in the legislature, and 
manifested such ability that in 1S63 he was made the Democratic candidate for 
councilor in the fifth district and was elected, becoming the most trusted and 
influential of Governor Gilmore's executive advisers, and being particularly efficient 
in looking after the interests of the state in matters pertaining to the prosecution 
of the war. In 1874 he was elected to the state senate, and again in the follow- 
ing year, when he was made president of that body. He also served in the con- 
stitutional conventions of 1876, 1S89, and 1902. He was the Democratic candi- 
date for congress against Hon. Joshua G. Hall, in the first district at the time of 
the reelection of the latter, making an excellent run. For more than thirty 
years he was an active member of the Democratic state committee and a control- 
ling spirit in the conventions of the party, up to the time of the gold standard defec- 
tion in 1896, when, with many others theretofore prominent in the party, he 
broke away and was subsequently allied with the Republicans. 

Although active and influential in politics, he was, during the last twenty years 
of his life, best known as having charge of the interests of the Boston & Maine 
railroad, in connection with legislative affairs in this state, and largely also be- 
fore the courts ; for, although not a lawyer, such was his judgment and sagacity 
that he was able to guide the action of lawyers in many ways with consummate 
skill and success. 

Mr. Sanborn had been a trustee of the New Hampshire insane asylum, the 
State College of Agriculture and the MechanicjArts, and the Wolfeborough savings 
bank, and was also a director of the Portsmouth, Great Falls & Conway railroad, 
the Manchester & Lawrence, the Wolfeborough railroad, and the Portsmouth Fire 

He married, February 24, 1849, Miss Almira J. Chapman, daughter of Thomas 
and Almira ( Robinson ) Chapman of Wakefield. They had two children, a son 
and a daughter, Mrs. Lillian Rogers of Sanbornville. The son died several years 
ago. Mr. Sanborn was married a second time, about four years ago, to Julia A. 
Thurston of Freedom, who survives him. 


William Cleaves Todd, born in Atkinson, February 16, 1823, died in that town 
June 26, 1903. 

He was a son of Ebenezer and Betsey Kimball Todd. He prepared for college 
at Atkinson academy and graduated at Dartmouth in 1844. Mr. Todd earned his 
entire way through college by teaching district school in vacations. Among his 
classmates who became distinguished were the late Charles H. Bell, governor of 
New Hampshire and United States senator; Joseph H. Bradley, district attorney 
of Suffolk county, Massachusetts; Judge Mellen Chamberlain, librarian of the Bos- 
ton public library ; Dr. Alvah Hovey, president of the Newton Theological institu- 
tion and Hon. A. A. Ranney, a Massachusetts congressman. 

After graduation Mr. Todd taught at Shepherdville, Ky., for about two years, 
and then visited Europe, hearing Beaconsfield and Lord Russell in parliament. 
He taught a select school in Candia for a short time ; was then principal of Atkin- 


son academy for six years, and left there in 1854 to be principal of the Female 
High school at Newburyport. In this position he continued with memorable suc- 
cess, and the warm regard of every pupil, until 1864, when he resigned and finally 
left the vocation of teacher in which he had been eminently successful. 

Mr. Todd was a man of marked business sagacity and quick to see and act upon 
opportunities for fortunate investments. He followed his profession but twenty 
years, never received a salary of more than $1,000, but was still enabled to retire 
with a competency. During the Civil war he invested his savings in cotton 
manufactures, buying shares of a mill which at that time, on account of the unset- 
tled state of the country, was not in operation. After the war the mill resumed, 
and made Mr. Todd's fortune ; a fortune which was increased by judicious invest- 
ment in Washington real estate. 

In 18S3 and in 1887 Mr. Todd represented Atkinson in the legislature and in 
1889 was its delegate to the constitutional convention. In both bodies he was a 
useful and influential member. His most intimate associates at Concord were the 
late Gen. Oilman Marston, of Exeter, and Hon. Harry Bingham, of Littleton. Politi- 
cally, he was a Republican of marked independent tendencies, and his friends and 
supporters included many Democrats. 

2vlr. Todd's benevolences were many and wisely bestowed. To Atkinson he 
gave a beautiful soldiers' monument and aided its Congregational parsonage. He 
was a liberal benefactor of its academy, of which he was long a trustee. He en- 
dowed a $1,000 scholarship at Dartmouth. In 1876 he founded and endowed 
with a gift of $10,000 the free reading room in the Newburyport public library and 
later gave $50,000 for a hospital in that city. A few years since he gave $50,000 
to the Boston public library as a fund, to furnish the leading daily newspapers of 
the world for public use. He left $15,000 altogether for the benefit of the New 
Hampshire Historical society, of which he had been president ; made other liberal 
donations in different directions, and left the residue of his fortune to the Colorado 
Female college, for the education of worthy young women. 


Brooks K. Webber, a well-known lawyer of Hillsborough Bridge and a prominent 
Democrat, died at his home in that place, July i, 1903. 

Mr. Webber was a native of that part of Boscawen now Webster, a son of Maxi- 
millian and Clarissa (Sweet) Webber, born August 19, 1837. He was educated in 
the public schools and New London Academy, studied law in Newport and at Wood- 
stock, A"t., and was admitted to the bar in 1859, opening an office in Antrim. In 
August, 1862, he enlisted in company I, Sixteenth New Hampshire regiment, and 
was promoted to the office of first lieutenant. Returning from the war he located 
in practice at Hillsborough Lower Village, removing in 1872 to Hillsborough 
Bridge, taking the place of Hon. James F. Briggs, who removed to Manchester, and 
there remained through life. 

He was an earnest Democrat and prominent in public and political affairs. He 
was a member of the constitutional convention of 1876, and represented his town 
in the legislature of 1868 and 1869. He was superintendent of schools and a 
member of the board of education for nearly twenty-one years, also a member of; 


the board of health, a water commissioner, and supervisor of the check-list for a 
number of years. He was also for many years a member of the Democratic state 
committee. He is survived by a widow and five children, Ned D., of Providence, 
and Clara S., of Ipswich, Winifred T., Henry Max, and Bernard A., of Hillsborough. 


Gardner Cook, one of the most prominent citizens and successful business men 
of Laconia, died in that city June i6, at the age of seventy-eight years, he having 
been born in Campton, August 24, 1824. 

He was the son of Jacob and Relief (Miller) Cook. He was educated in the 
common schools of his native town. In early life he worked as a carpenter in 
Lowell, but in 1849 went to Laconia, then Meredith Bridge, where he was engaged 
in building for a time, and subsequently in a pail factory. In 1852 he purchased 
an interest in a lumber mill there, from which ultimately was developed what has 
long been known as the Cook lumber company, one of the most extensive concerns 
in this line in central New Hampshire. 

Mr. Cook was quite extensively engaged in building in Laconia, and was promi- 
nent in various local enterprises. In politics he was a decided Republican, but 
never an office seeker. He was a liberal supporter of the South church in Laconia, 
and a prominent Odd Fellow. He leaves two sons, Frank, of Nashua, and Addison 
G., of Laconia, his wife having died some years since. 


Caleb Warren Hodgdon, D. D. S., who died on July 4, 1903, at the Cottage hos- 
pital, Exeter, was born in Kensington in 1829. He studied the profession of 
dentistry with the late Dr. Locke of Nashua, and was prominent as a musician in 
that vicinity. 

For several years preceding the Civil war he was located in North Weare, 
and in 1862 organized Company D, Fourteenth New Hampshire volunteers, of 
which he served as captain during the war. Soon after the close of the Rebellion, 
he established an office in Boston where he practised his profession until about 
three years ago, when, his health failing, he returned to his native town of Kensing- 
ton, where he had since resided. He was stricken with paralysis of the throat at 
his home on July 2, 1903. He was a member of Kinsley post. No. 113, G. A. R., 
and of the Sheridan Veteran association, and was a thirty-second degree Mason, 
also a member of Aleppo temple, Mystic Shrine. He was master of the local 
grange, P. of H., at the time of his death, and was president of the Kensington 
Old Home Week association for two years. He was unmarried and leaves no 
near relatives, but his generous and kindly disposition and courteous bearing won 
him many friends by whom he will not soon be forgotten. 


The Granite Monthly. 

Vol. XXXV. 

SEPTP:MBER, 1903. 

No. 3. 



By G. A. cite lie y. 

one recalls the fact 
a goodly numljer of 



the years of the nineteenth 
century had been counted 
otf before the first mile of 
railroad construction had been at- 
tempted in the LTnited States, that the 
close of the first half of that wonder- 
ful hundred years saw completed and 
in operation less than ten thousand 
miles of such roadways, and that it 
was not until after tlie close of the war 
between the states that the present 
gigantic systems of railways, which to- 
day bring the whole country together, 
as it were, into one vast community, 
had even their inception, then does one 
marvel at the mightiness of this single 
agency, this comparatively new-comer 
in mankind's material world. 

The railroad came and finding civili- 
zation, bravely it may liave been, yet 
wearily plodding its way alons:, picked 
it up and carried it forward with strides 
greater in a generation than it had been 
able to make in a century of its pre- 
ceding history. It annihilated distan- 
ces and was alone the one factor that 
made possible the settlement and de- 
velopment of those mighty American 
domains westward from the Atlanti'' 

The story of American railroad con- 
struction, development, equipment, 
and operation is undoubtedly the most 
brilliant one in the material history of 
the world and the source of it all was 
the genius of American manhood, and 
genius is simply the genial, courageous, 
and fearless activity of the mind. 
Though the idea of the railroad and 
the adaptation of the locomotive en- 
gine were not indigenous to America, 
yet it is in this country that the rail- 
road and all that pertains to it is to be 
found in a perfection that is simply in- 
comparable. American genius in its 
application to railroad building and 
operation has made it possible to con- 
struct a road at a less cost than is done 
in any other land, even though the 
cost of lal)or and material be more; and 
the patron of American railroads gets 
his freight handled at a less cost than 
does the patron of railroads in any oth- 
er country in the world. Tlie American 
citizen as he enters an ordinary rail- 
road coach has comforts at his disposal 
that the average home does not afford, 
and he speeds along at a rate not at- 
tained upon the railways of any other 
land, and he travels with a degree of 
safety that is not with him as he walks 
the streets of town or city, or drives 



along a country highway. That all 
this work in American railroad devel- 
opment, equipment, and operation, 
could have been accomplished in s(J 
short a time as fifty years is closely akin 
to the miraculous. 

That JSTew Hampshire men should 
have been early alert to see and com- 
prehend the possibilities that the rail- 
road was destined to unfold to Ameri- 
can commercial and industrial life 
was almost as a matter of course. A 
taste and predilection not unlike that 
which has led so many a New Hamp- 
shire man to seek a career as a hotel 
manager and like semi-public callings, 
also led him to become identified with 
railroading and its allied interests. 
Besides, the state itself early became 
threaded with railways and these were 
unequaled schools for many a young 
man who later became identified witli 
lines in other states of the Union. 
Particularly was that line known 
formerly as the ISTorthern railroad of 
New Hampshire, a prolific source of 
trained railroad men, who from time 
to time went out into the world and 
attained to jDositions of trust and re- 
sponsibility. Notable gifts of the in- 
itiative, fertility of resource, self- 
reliance, and habits of thrift and in- 
dustry were natural and acquired 
traits of these men and they led on to 
success and achievement. 

Among the many to enter the em- 
ploy of the Northern railroad was Isaac 
Bullock Martin of Grafton, whom the 
middle-aged and those of maturer 
years, yet resident in the town and its 
vicinity, will remember as one of its 
most active and valued citizens. 

He was born in Grafton in 1825 and 
lived in his native town until 1866. 
His was a genuine old-fashioned New 

England manhood, that type of man- 
hood that from first to last lias done 
so much toward the upbuilding of the 
nation, and that is so meaningly de- 
described l)y that old-fashioned term 
" a capable man." The term meant 
that such an one was versatile, that he 
did not fear to lead, that he was re- 
sourceful, discerning, and determined. 
Such a man was Isaac B. Martin. 

That part of his railroad career 
passed in Grafton included service as 
station agent in Grafton Center and 

Although he left his native Grafton 
at the age of forty-one years; his fel- 
low townsmen had even then honored 
him by electing him town clerk, to 
the board of selectmen, and to other 
town offices, - and in addition he had 
served as postmaster. In early man- 
hood he joined the New Hampshire 
militia and his all-round ability was 
just as manifest as a soldier as a civil- 
ian. He passed from one grade to an- 
other, finally terminating his state mili- 
tary service with the rank of colonel. 
As a youth and young man, he acquired 
a common school and academic educa- 
tion of the most practical nature. He 
entered manhood life as a merchant in 
Grafton and was a willing worker in 
all phases of the town's life and gen- 
eral affairs. 

When William M. Parker, superin- 
tendent of the Northern road, accepted 
in 1866, the management of the old 
Boston, Hartford k Erie railroad, he 
]n'evailed upon jMr. ^lartin to accept 
the agency of that line in the town of 
Southlu'idge, Mass. The station was 
one of the largest and most important, 
outside of the cities, on the line, as the 
town was the commercial center of a 
large surrounding country and the 



town itself is one of the largest in its 
section of Massachusetts. 

Upon becoming a resident of Sonth- 
bridge Mr. Martin identified himself 
.with all its established and progressive 
interests and speedily became one of 
its foremost citizens through recogni- 
tion of his worth by his fellow towns- 

the state legislature and was elected to 
the session of 1877. 

On September 1, 1880, while en- 
gaged in the making up of a train in 
the yard of the Southbridge station he 
received injuries that within an hour 
or two proved fatal, thus dying at the 
age of fifty-ilve and in the very prime 
and vigor of his sterling manhood. 

Isaac B. Martin. 

The people of his adopted town 
" sized him up," as it were, and with 
singular unanimity declared he was of 
the type of man they wanted. He was 
interested in them and they in him and 
with both this interest was sincere and 
genuine. Prevented by his railroad 
interests from accepting town offices, 
he did, however, yield to the desires of 
his friends in his town and district to 
become the Eepublican candidate for 

An added interest which his former 
Grafton townsmen and acquaintances 
have in the memory of Mr. Martin is 
that she whom he married in January, 
1849, was Almira H. M. Haskins, 
daughter of William Haskins of Graf- 
ton. Six children were born of this 
union, All)ert W., George W., Addie 
M., Myra B., Howard P., and Harold 
H. All these children, with the excep- 
tion of Howard P., who died in South- 


bridge just as he had entered a most tuitous circumstances or power of in- 
promising manhood, are at present liv- fluential friends. In June, 1867, when 
ing. Mrs. Martin, ever esteemed at only fifteen years old, he left the Cam- 
home and abroad for those traits that bridge (Mass.) public schools and began 
typify the ideal New England wife and his life-work as a freight clerk in the 
mother, is yet living, making her home Southbridge station, and notwithstand- 
with her eldest son. ing the early age at which he left 
The predominant purpose of this ar- school he has ever been regarded as 
tide is to present to the readers of the one possessing a fine comprehension of 
Granite Monthly the eldest of these all that passes as knowledge and edu- 
children, Albert Whittier, who was cation. His every position in railroad 
New Hampshire born, and he has life has been such as to require intelli- 
proved himself worthy of the Granite gence, if not education. It was at the 
state's warmest commendations and Southbridge station that he mastered 
sincerest well wishes. He was born in the details of freight work so thor- 
Grafton, December 2, 1851, and it may oughly as to attract the attention of his 
be of interest in this connection to note' superiors and then he was advanced to 
that his birth was only fourteen years work in the passenger station and in 
later than the building of the first mile the yard. No feature of railroad work 
of railroad in New Hampshire, wdiich but what early received his attention 
was in 1837. Thus his life, young as and learned its every detail. Efii- 
he is, is practically coeval with that of ciency came as a matter of course. He 
the railroad in his native state, and it became ticket clerk, yard switchman, 
may be added, parenthetically, with its and, finally, came to be sent as agent at 
inference obvious, that New Hampshire dift'erent stations pending the appoint- 
has come to have in this year of 1903 a ment of a permanent agent. As such 
greater railroad mileage than any other he worked practically the whole length 
state in the Union in proportion to the of the Boston, Hartford & Erie rail- 
extent of its territory. The one as a road. Not only did he perform every 
railroad state and the other as a rail- description of station work but every 
road man are successes. form of train service as well. He was 

The childhood years of Mr. Martin ever one of those men who could be 
were passed in his native Grafton and sought out to fill an emergency call 
no source of pleasure is greater to him and the efficiency with which he filled 
than the opportunity to visit his native every need became in very truth a sub- 
town, even though it be but for a Ject of comment among those cognizant 
day, and no absent son of New Hamp- of his daily life. It was as if he had 
shire has a deeper and more filial love been trained to do the particular work 
for her than he. of the hour. The ease with which he 

The career of Mr. Martin and the could take up a line of work and the 

work he has accomplished are conspic- thoroughness of its accomplishment are 

uous more especially for the reason matters that became proverbial among 

that he has attained his success solely his associates and felloAv acquaintances, 

through his ability and proven fitness. Upon the death of his father, in 

and not by the instrumentality of for- 1880, he succeeded to his position as 



the Suiitliljridge station agent, and 
filled the same until May, 1887, when 
he resigned to become the chief clerk 
of the Shore Line division of the New- 
York, ISTew Haven & Hartford rail- 
road, with headquarters at New Haven, 
Conn. His selection for this position 
shows in itself the estimate placed upon 
his abilities as a railroad man by the 
management of what was at the time 
one of the leading New England rail- 

In 1890 he returned to the New Eng- 
land road, which was the old Boston, 
Hartford & Erie, as the agent at 
Fishkill and Newburgh. In 1893 he 
returned to Southbridge and again be- 
came the agent in that town. The re- 
turn to his home town was the occa- 
sion of general rejoicing on the part of 
his townsmen, for during all his man- 
hood years few of its citizens had been 
held in greater esteem. His popular- 
ity was not of that kind accorded the 
village buster, but had its source in a 
recognition of general all-round worth- 
iness, sincerity, and proven merit and 
ability. This approbation took a prac- 
tical form in the fall of the same year 
of his return to Southbridge in his 
nomination as a candidate for the Mass- 
achusetts legislature in the session of 
1893. He was the candidate of the 
Eepublican party in a Democratic dis- 
trict, but his personal popularity over- 
came the opposition majority and he 
was triumphantly elected. A like dis- 
trict in New Hampshire would have 
chosen eight men in a like election, a 
fact here stated to show with greater 
emphasis the distinct honor given Mr. 
Martin in his election. 

At the close of his legislative term 
he was offered and accepted the posi- 
tion of chief clerk to the general su- 

perintendent of the Old Colony system, 
of the New Haven road, and held the 
same until July 1, 1898, when he was 
made secretary to the general manager. 
On June 15, 1903, he was made assist- 
ant general superintendent of the New 
York, New Haven & Hartford sys- 
tem, with offices in the south terminal 
station in Boston. The New Haven, 
as it is called, is one of the greatest rail- 
road systems in the country, having a 
passenger and freight traffic that is 
well-nigh beyond the mental grasp of 
the layman. 

While in Southbridge Mr. Martin 
held nearly all of the town offices; was 
chairman of the Eepublican town com- 
mittee for a number of years, and one 
of the selectmen in 1892 and 1893. 
His home paper, the SoutJihridge 
Pi-ess, in referring to his promotion, 
says that " it is a matter in which every 
Southbridge man takes a just pride, 
for it was in this town that Mr. Martin 
passed most of his life and where he 
started on his career as a railroad man, 
and not only that, but he was beyond 
doubt the most popular citizen of his 
time here, and was repeatedly honored 
by election to the highest offices the 
people of this town have in their gift, 
and chosen to represent them on most 
important special committees. He 
finally represented them in the legis- 
lature and paused at that point, of his 
own choice and not because the people 
did not wish to continue honoring him. 
He found that his growing duties with 
the railroad company no longer per- 
mitted him time for side issues, so he 
applied himself with his characteristic 
diligence to railway matters." 

The Boston Herald, in referring to 
his appointment as assistant general 
superintendent of the New Haven road. 



with headquarters at Boston, said: 
" Mr. Martin, who was chief clerk of 
General Manager Chamberlain up to 
the time when his office was removed 
to Xew Haven, recently received the 
appointment of general superintendent 
of the Worcester & Connecticut Street 
railway, and had located in Putnam, 
Conn. In selecting him for the impor- 
tant position of assistant general super- 
intendent of the jSTew Haven system, 
the management, it is said, took into 
consideration his wide knowledge of 
the operating department, his extensive 
acquaintance at this end of the line, and 
his popularity among all classes of em- 
ployes. The executive othcials took 
into account also the influence of Mr. 
Martin's appointment on the entire 
working force of the company, as it 
indicated a disposition to make promo- 
tions from the ranks, and to show that 

there is now a chance of reward for 
meritorious services." 

Mr. Martin was married September 
9, 1874, to Miss Jennie ]\IcKinstry, 
daughter of Hon. John 0. McKinstry 
of Southbridge, and they have five 
children, a daughter, Ethel (now Mrs. 
John A. Hall of Southbridge, Mass.), 
and four sons, Eobert Batcheller with 
the Employers' Liability Assurance 
company, Boston; Stuart Fenno, with 
Hayden & Stone, bankers and brokers, 
Boston; and John Otis and Philip Lin- 
coln, who are still in the school-boy 


As already said, Mr. Martin has a de- 
cidedly warm place in his heart for 
Xew Hampshire and her people, and it 
is his ardent hope to some day own a 
snug little estate somewhere within the 
state that he can call his own. 


By Samuel Hoyt. 

Because two little arms were twined 
About my neck in other days, 
I love all childhood's pleading ways, 

Xor to its smile am ever blind. 

Because two little, tender eyes 
Were lifted to the gaze of mine, 
I hold all childhood-eyes divine, — 

pure and wise. 

All good and true and 

Because two little, busy feet 

Once pattered in this dreary hall. 
The children's footsteps first of all 

I hear along the village street. 

Because two little lips once blessed 
My own with love's responsive kiss, 
I have not deemed it all amiss 

If other little lips I pressed. 


By Dr. C. E. Boynton. 

I stood on the top of a mountain and looked into the distance away, 
Just as the first sliadows of evening were cast o'er tlie margins of day; 
And afar off belield the blue ocean and forests of pine stretching wide — 
And rivers and lakes in the distance and a town by the mountain side — 
Then I said I will journey always and the world I will traverse o'er 
On the land from city to city; on the ocean from shore to shore. 

I stood at topmast in mid-ocean, as the sun had sunk down in the sea; 
And the skv with the ocean's blue water seemed broad as eternitv. 
As northward our sails were bending, so already the Borean blast 
Had frozen the sleet to the rigging and frozen the yards to the mast. 
But I said, I will journey always, and the world I will traverse o'er 
From the frozen zone of the Arctic, to the drear Antartic shore. 

I stood on the AVestern prairie, where fifty years ago 

AVas heard the whoop of the Indian and the tramp of the buffalo — 

But to the very horizon, where the sky and prairies meet 

Were seen the homes of farmers and their waving fields of wheat; 

And the blast of a locomotive, with her headlight's eye of fire 

Came flashing over the gleaming rails, by the side of the lightning's wire. 

Then I boarded the flying city, away and away went we 

Over the Eocky Mountains, down to the silver sea. 

I stood in a jungle solitude, by Lake Nyanza's shore 
And heard the wild hyena's cry and the Afric lion's roar. 
In the sky the stars were shining and looking through the night; 
The Dipper and the Southern Cross, with Orion, lent their light; 
And in the clear blue above me, as night's twelve hours went by, 
.All of the constellations beamed out of the cloudless sky, 
And I said, it is worth the seeing, so like Arabs we fold our tent. 
And wend our way in the tropic wilds of earth's dark continent. 

I stood on the sands of a desert, the dark tropic sky overhead; 
'Mid the stones of an ancient city that told of a nation dead. 
The day was hot and sultry and parched with thirst were we. 
Wlien lo! there ap;[).eared in the distance a sight we craved to see, 
A lake of limpid water, bright as the twinkling stars — 
But, alas! the sight deceived us, 'twas only the light's mirage. 

Thus still we must journey onward to the oasis far away 
To seek for the water and travel — travel by night and day. 
Weary and weak with the journey, burned by the simoon's blast — 
An Eden we find in the desert and drink of the water, at last. 
Refreshed by the crystal fountain, onward the word and we 
Will journey the miles before us, over, the sandy sea. 

Oh! why will man live and loiter, bound down to his childhood's home 

Wlien a Avorld of many wonders beckons him forth to roam? 

Greater and wiser and better a man will feel, when he 

Has trodden the soil of nations and traversed the billowy sea; 

Has sailed on the ship of the desert; on the steam kings of land and wave. 

And has filled his mind with the wonders, unseen by the home-bound slave. 















New Agricultural Building — Morrill Hall. 


By Lucien TJiompson. 

X the old town of Durham, 
on the line of the Boston 
and Maine railroad, six 
^ miles from Dover, is loca- 
ted an institution, which, 
it is hoped and believed by those who 
have the welfare of the state at heart, 
is destined, in the not distant future, 
to become an important factor in the 
educational system of New Hampshire. 
This is the Xew Hampshire College of 
Agriculture and the Mechanic Arts, 
commonly known as the "Agricultural 
College " from the fact that it is one of 
those institutions the primary provi- 
sion for which was made by the Con- 
gress of the United States in the act 
of 1862, making a grant of public land 
for each of the states which should es- 
tablish and maintain a college for 
instruction in agriculture and the me- 
chanic arts imder certain conditions, 
in the enactment of which Congress- 
man — afterwards Senator — Morrill of 
Vermont, one of the strongest friends 
of the cause of agriculture who ever 
occupied a seat in either branch of the 

national legislature, w^as largely instru- 
mental, and the main purpose of which 
measure, as was generally understood 
by those who followed the discussion 
in congress and the comments of the 
newspaper press, was to further the in- 
terests of agriculture, the great funda- 
mental industry of the country, by pro- 
viding means for the better education 
of those engaging therein. 

The land granted by the general 
government — 150,000 acres — was sold 
for $80,000, though had it remained 
for twenty years several times that 
amount might undoubtedly have been 

In 1868 the projected institution 
was established at Hanover, in con- 
nection with Dartmouth college, as the 
income from the fund realized was en- 
tirely inadequate to carry on an inde- 
pendent establishment, and Dartmouth 
had, meanwhile, come into possession 
of an estate, devised by the Hon. Dan- 
iel Culver of Lyme for the purpose of 
providing agricultural instruction at 
that institution. Twentv-five thou- 












The President's Residence. 

sand dollars was appropriated from the 
Culver fund toward the erection of a 
building for recitation rooms and other 
necessary purposes, the state legislature 
having voted $15,000 for the same pur- 
pose; and what was known as Culver 
hall was erected, the work being com- 
menced in 1869 and completed in 
June, ISn. 

Meanwhile Hon. John Conant of 
Jaffrey, another strong friend of agri- 
culture, had taken an interest in the 
cause and donated to the college an 
adjacent farm, which he had purchased 
for the purpose. He also contributed 
$5,000 toward the erection of a build- 
ing designed for the purpose of fur- 
nishing rooms and board for the stu- 
, dents, the balance of the cost, amount- 
ing to over $20,000, being furnished by 
the state. This building, which was 
completed and opened for use in 1874:, 
was named " Conant Hall." Subse- 
c^uently Mr. Conant made further con- 

tributions in aid of the colle2:e, adding 
largely to the farm and establishing 
numerous scholarships, including one 
for each town in the county of Ches- 
hire with two for the town of Jaffrey, 
the conditions being such that if not 
taken advantage of bv students from 
such towns they may be otherwise dis- 

The available funds not being suffi- 
cient to properly maintain the college 
and carry on its work, the state legisla- 
ture was called upon for assistance, 
and, in 1877, made an appropriation of 
$3,000 per annum, for six years for 
such purpose. Another appropriation 
of $2,000 per annum for two years was 
made in 1883 and in 1885 a perpetual 
appropriation of $3,000 per annum was 
provided for. 

In 1887 congress passed an act mak- 
ing a perpetual grant of $15,000 per 
annum to each of the states which had 
accepted the provisions of the act of 














1862, for the establishment and main- 
tenance of agricultural experiment sta- 
tions, which, being accepted 1)y New 
Hampshire, and the station being es- 
tablished in connection with the col- 
lege, greatly" enhanced the facilities en- 
joyed, for promoting thorough work in 
scientific and practical agriculture; and 
tne " Morrill bill," so called, passed by 
congress in 1890, and becoming a law 
August 30 of that year^ which appro- 
priated $15,000 the first year, the same 
being increased by $1,000 Cc'ich year, 
until the sum of $25,000 should be 
reached, and continuing permanently 
at the latter figure, vastly increased the 
means for carrying on the general work 
of the institution. 

By the will of Benjamin Thompson, 
a successful farmer and prominent citi- 
zen of the town of Durham, who died 
January 30, 1890, the state of Xew 
Hampshire, upon compliance with cer- 
tain conditions, came in possession of 
his farm in that town, with money and 
securities to the amount of $363,000, 
the conditions being that a college of 
agriculture, in which tlie mechanic 
arts might also be taught, be estab- 
lished and maintained on the farm, and 

that the funds be invested at four per 
cent, for twenty years before becoming 
available for use in support of the in- 
stitution. The legislature accepted 
the gift in behalf of the state, and as 
it had been for some time felt that the 
college would do better work and attain 
greater success if separated entirely 
from Dartmouth college, and removed 
to some other location, it was deter- 
mined to remove the Hanover estab- 
lishment to Durham. Arrangements 
were accordingly made to that end. 
The college buildings at Hanover were 
disposed of to Dartmouth, the other 
real estate sold, and with the proceeds, 
and an appropriation of $100,000, made 


Kappa Sigma Society Building. 

G. M.- 



i ' 



Judge George W. Nesmith. 

by the legislature for the purpose, the 
work of providing suitable buildings 
and equipments on the Durham loca- 
tion was actively entered upon in 
1892, and rapidly pushed to comple- 

The buildings include " Thompson 
Hall/ the main college building, an 
elegant and substantial structure of 
brick and granite, 128 by 93 feet, in- 
cluding the oflfices, library, reading and 
reference rooms, laboratories, recita- 
tion rooms and large auditorium; 
" Xesmith Hall," a fine two-storv brick 
building, erected for the agricultural 

experiment station, and named in 
honor of the late Hon. George W. 
Nesmith of Franklin, a warm friend of 
the college and many years president 
of the board of trustees; " Conant 
Hall," otherwise known as the " science 
building," also a large and substantial 
brick edifice, containing the labora- 
tories and lecture rooms for instruc- 
tion in chemistry, phj^sics, and electri- 
cal engineering; " Morrill Hall," a 
handsome new building provided for 
by the legislature of 1901, and just 
completed, devoted especially to the 
agricultural and horticultural depart- 










ments; glso substantial wdrk-shops, within two or three minutes' walk of 

barns, greenhouses, dairy buildings and the Dui'luim station, 
other necessary equipments. The courses of study which have 

Superior heating and lighting plants been established at this institution in- 

have been installed, and the water sup- dude four years' courses in agricul- 

Conant Hall — Science Building. 
Power Station and Shops. 
Nesnnith Hall — Experiment Station. 

ply is not surpassed. The location is 
pleasant and healthy, in one of the 
most attractive sections of the state, 
and of exceedingly convenient access, 
being on the main line of the Boston 
& Maine railroad, and all the buildings 

ture, mechanical engineering, electri- 
cal engineering, technical chemistry 
and a general course, the latter origi- 
nally arranged to meet the demand for 
the education of women, and which 
has been broadened and improved till 



it now offers the youth of either sex " a 
liberal education upon a scientific ba- 
sis," comparing favorably with that ob- 
tained in the scientific departments of 
the best New England colleges. 

All students completing either of 
the four years' courses, and success- 
fully passing the examinations, receive 
the degree of Bachelor of Science. 

A tAvo vears' course in agriculture 
has also been arranged, in compliance 
with an act of the legislature, passed 
in 1895, devoted to the study of prac- 
tical and theoretical agriculture and 
the natural sciences closely related to 
successful farming. This course Avas 
provided for the benefit, especiall}^, of 
such young people from the country 
towns as have not had the advantages 
of a high school training (the equiva- 
lent of which is necessary to admis- 
sion to the four years' course), or who 
cannot afford the time to pursue the 
latter. Admission to this course is 
open to such as have a fair common 
school education, or are able to pass 
" a fair and reasonable examination in 
reading, spelling, Avriting, arithmetic, 
English grammar and the geography 
and history of the United States." 
Each student completing this course 
receives a certificate. 

Short courses have also been pro- 
vided, including a ten weeks' winter 
course in agriculture, and a ten weeks' 
course in dairying, open to students of 
any age, and for Avhicli no examination 
is required, though it is desirable that 
a common school education at least be 
possessed by those pursuing these 
courses, which may profitably be taken 
by almost any farmer, though he may 
have attained middle life. 

The expense attendant upon the pur- 
suit of a college course at this institu- 

tion is less than at almost anv other 
college in the country. The tuition is 
$60 per annum, and board may be had 
at a very moderate figure, while the in- 
cidental expenses are very light. There 
are also a large number of scholarships 
available in the agricultural courses, 
which provide for the tuition of those 
securing the same. 

This college offers special induce- 
ments for. the young women of l!»rew 
Hampshire seeking a collegiate educa- 
tion, since it is the only college in the 
state which opens its doors to women, 
Dartmouth being accessible to men 
only. Moreover, the expense attend- 
ant upon a course here is less than at 
most of the female or co-educational 
colleges of the country, and the in- 
struction furnished is equal to any. 
When the course in domestic science, 
now in contemplation, is provided for, 
the attractions for young lady students 
will be superior to those of most other 

The supervisory control of this col- 
lege is in the hands of a board of trus- 
tees, consisting of thirteen members, 
the governor of the state and the presi- 
dent of the college being trustees ex 
officio, one member being chosen by 
the alumni, and ten being appointed 
by the governor and council, in such 
manner that each councilor district in 
the state shall have at least one repre- 
sentative on the board, and neither 
political pnrty shall have more than 
five, the term of each being three years 
from the date of appointment. The 
board as now constituted consists of: 

His Excellency Xahum J. Bachel- 
der, ex officio. 

William D. Gibbs, M. S., president, 

ex officio. 



Hon. George A. Wason, New Bos- 
ton, president of board. 

Charles AV. Stone, A. M., East An- 

Hon. Lucien Thompson, Durham, 

Hon. John G. Talhmt, Pembroke. 

Frederick P. Comings, B. S., Lee, 
alumni trustee. 

George B. AYilliams, AValpole. 

Hon. Warren Brown, Hampton 

Eosecrans W. Pill>bury, London- 

Hon. Eichard ')sV. Scammon, Strat- 

Walter Drew, Colebrook. 

Hon. George B. Chandler, Manches- 

The college faculty, or board of in- 
struction, as at present" constituted, 
consists of the following: 

William D. Gibbs, M. S., president 
and director. 

Charles H. Pettee, A. M., C. E., dean 
and professor of mathematics and 
civil ens^ineering. 

Clarence W. Scott, A. M., professor 
of history and political economy. 

Fred W. Morse, M. S., professor of 
organic chemistry. 

Charles L. Parsons, B. S., professor 
of general and analytical chemistry. 

Clarence M. Weed, D. Sc, professor 
of zoolog}' and entomology. 

Frank William Pane, B. Ag., M. S., 
professor of horticulture and forestry. 

Carleton A. Eead, S. B., professor of 
mechanical engineering. 

Yernon A. Caldwell, captain, L^. S. 
Army, professor of niilitary science 
and tactics. 

F. W. Taylor, B. S., professor of 

Arthur F. Xesbit, S. B., A. M., asso- 
ciate professor of physics and electrical 


Joseph H. Hawes, associate profes- 
sor of drawing. 

Eichard Whoriskey, Jr., A. B., asso- 
ciate professor of modern languages. 

E. L. Shaw, B. S., assistant profes- 
sor of agriculture. 

willia:m d. GiriBS, :sr. s. 

President and Director of the Experiment Station. 

William D. Gibbs, M. S., president of 
the college and director of the experi- 
ment station, who was unanimously 
elected by the trustees, August 1, upon 
the recommendation of the special 
committee appointed to recommend a 
successor to Dr. Charles S. Murkland, 
who resigned last spring after a ten 
years' incumbency, is a native of Illi- 
nois, and graduated from the Univer- 
sity of Illinois, after taking a four 
years' course in agriculture, in 1893. 
He held a fellowship in the university 
the following year, teaching bacteriol- 
ogy, stock feeding, and stock breeding, 
and taking the degree of M. S. 

He spent one year at the University 
of Wisconsin as a special student in 
soil physics, under the noted specialist. 
Professor F. H. King. In 1895 he was 
expert assistant in the division of soils 
in the Ignited States department of 
agriculture, under Professor Whitney. 
In September of the same year he be- 
came assistant professor of agriculture 
at the Ohio State university, after- 
wards associate professor, and then full 

In the fall of 1901 he was tendered 
the position of professor of agriculture 
at the New Hampshire college. Presi- 
dent Thompson of the Ohio State uni- 
versity and Prof. Thomas F. Hunt, 



William D. Gibbs, M. S. 

dean of the College of Agriculture, de- 
sired him to remain and offered him 
special inducements to that end. The 
New Hampshire college then tendered 
him the position of director of the ex- 
periment station, in addition to tiiat of 
professor of agriculture, with a salary 
exceeded only by the president of the 
college. The offer was accepted and 
Professor Gibbs began his duties Jan- 
uary 1, 1903. At Durham his strong 
power and influence was manifest to 
all, and when he resigned the following 
August to enter a larger field in the 
Empire state of Texas, with a much 
larger salary, the faculty, students, and 
citizens realized that his departure was 
a great loss to the college, and are now 
greatly pleased to learn that he will 

return as the liead of the college and 

President Giljbs is about thirty-four 
years of age, a good speaker, popular 
as an instructor, an authority on soil 
physics, and fond of scientific research. 

He was highly recommended for the 
presidency of this college by Dr. A. C. 
True, director of the United States 
experiment stations, Washington, D. C, 
who said, " He is without doubt among 
the most promising young men en- 
gaged in agricultural education in this 
country." Dr. Eugene Davenport, 
dean and director of the College of Ag- 
riculture and director of the experi- 
ment station of Illinois, said: "He is 
a man of broad views, and good Judg- 
ment. He believes in himself enough 



to' be able to make and execute plans, 
and is modest enouoli to foro-et himself 
in their success. He is of good pres- 
ence, agreeable in his relations, and 
tireless in his energy. He is a farmer 

love for his work and desire to be of 

"While in Texas he lield the positions 
of dean of the department of agricul- 
ture, director of experiment stations, 

Charles H. Pettee, A. M., C. E. 

by birth and by training and is destined 
to be widely known as an organizer." 
While in Durham, Professor Gibbs 
spoke before many agricultural in- 
stitutes, dairymen's meetings, and 
granges, and always impressed his au- 
diences with his intellectual strength. 

director of the state farmers' institutes, 
and secretary and treasurer of the farm- 



In a country town like Durham, the 
wife of the president of the college ex- 
erts a great influence socially with the 
students, and Mrs. Gibbs, who is a re- 



fined and educated woman, can easily 
fill the position of social and literary 
leader among the ladies of the town. 
In Ohio she filled with great success 
the chair of domestic science in the 
State university. She will be a great 
addition to the several literary clubs in 
the town. 

With President Gibbs at the head of 
this institution, with the agricultural 
people of the state working with him, 
and he, working in hearty sympathy 
with them, determined to make the 
agricultural course a popular one; up- 
held by trustees and faculty, we may 
look for rapid increase in the attend- 
ance during the next two years. 

vice in the college. He has been very 
influential in church and grange work, 
as well as in all matters of public inter- 
est. He owns a business block, a dor- 
mitory, several houses, a water supply 
plant, and considerable real estate and 
has great faith in the future of the 
college and of the town. 

Professor Pettee married Miss Luella 
E. Swett of Hanover, and is the father 
of four children. His oldest daughter 
is a graduate of the Xew Hampshire 
college and has attended Columbia col- 
lege for two years past. His son, 
Horace J. Pettee, is a junior in the 
New Hampshire college and prominent 
in college work. 


Dean and Professor of Mathematics and Civil 

Professor Pettee was born in Man- 
chester, N. H., February 2, 1853. He 
prepared for college in the Manchester 
public schools and gi'aduated from 
Dartmouth in 1874, taking second hon- 
ors and giving the salutatory oration at 

In 1876 he graduated from the 
Thayer School of Civil Engineering 
and at once became instructor in that 
school, and also in the Agricultural 
college, then located at Hanover. In 
1877 he was elected professor of mathe- 
matics and civil engineering, which 
position he still holds. In 1887 he 
was made dean, and up to the time of 
a resident president, in 189'3, he had 
practical oversight of the college. 

May 1, 1903, Professor Pettee be- 
came acting president of the college 
and performed the duties of the office 
to the satisfaction of all until Prof. 
"W. D. Gibbs became resident president. 
He is the .oldest professor in actual ser- 

Professor of History and Political Economy. 

Professor Scott was born in Ply- 
mouth, Vt. He prejjared for college 
at Kimball Union academy, Meriden, 
N. H., spending the winters in teach- 
ing and entering Dartmouth college in 
1870, teaching three winters during his 
college course and graduating in 1874. 

Professor Scott was the librarian of 
Dartmouth college from 1874 to 1878. 
In 1876 he began teaching "mathe- 
matics and rhetoric in the jSTew Hamp- 
shire college. In 1879 he was ad- 
mitted to the bar in Windsor county, 
Vermont. In 1878 he was made in- 
structor in English and political 
science. In 1881 he was made profes- 
sor of English language and literature, 
the chair including history and politi- 
cal science. In 1894 the title was 
changed to that of professor of history 
and jDolitical economy, and he con- 
tinues to give instruction in American 
literature, which he has made a special 
study. Professor Scott is the college 



Clarence W. Scott, A M. 

librarian, and to him is due much 
credit for the rapid increase of the col- 
lege library, and for improved library 
facilities. Professor Scott has been a 
director of the Durham Lil^rary asso- 
ciation for the past ten years and a 
trustee of the Durham public library 
for the same period. He is also, a 
trustee of the Congregational society 
in Durham and a member of Scam- 
mell grange. 

Professor Scott is a member of the 
American Historical association. He 

has been connected with the college for 
the past twenty-seven years and is 
popular with the faculty and students. 
While living in Hanover, Professor 
Scott was married to Miss Harriet C. 
Field of Duluth, Minn., and they have 
one son and two daughters. 

Professor of Organic Chemistry and Vice- 
Director of the Experiment Station. 

Professor Morse graduated from the 
Worcester Polytechnic institute in 
1887, receiving the degree of Bachelor 



of Science. He entered the laboratory 
of the Massachusetts state experiment 
station as an assistant chemist in 
August and remained until May 1, 

He was appointed assistant chemist 
of the New Hampshire experiment 
station and entered upon the duties of 
the position May 15, 1888, and on the 
first day of the following March he was 
appointed chemist. In April he be- 
came instructor in chemistry in the 
New Hampshire college, and in the 
following June was elected professor 
of chemistry. In 1891 the title was 
changed to professor of organic chem- 
istry. In 1896 he was appointed vice- 
director of the experiment station. 
Here he had charge of the work of the 
station, the president of the college be- 

Fred W. Morse, M. S. 

ing acting director. He performed the 
duties of the position with great care 
and impressed everyone with his ac- 

Professor Morse is the author of 

many college bulletins and is a popular 
lecturer before the farmers' institutes, 
held by the state board of agriculture, 
He was given the degree of master 
of science by the Worcester Polytech- 
nic institute in 1900, for a thesis on 
" The Phosphates of the Island of Ke- 
donda, West Indies." He has been a 
trustee of the Durham public library 
since 1893, and is the president of the 
board, and is also a member of Scam- 
mell grange. Professor Morse is mar- 
ried and has one son. 

Professor of General and Analytical Chemistry. 

Professor Parsons was born in New 
Marlboro, Mass., March 23, 1867. He 
graduated from the chemical course of 
Cornell rmiversity in 1888. He be- 
came assistant chemist at the New 
•Hampshire experiment station in 1888, 
instructor in the New Hampshire col- 
lege in 1890, professor of general and 
analytical chemistry in 1892. 

When the college was about to be re- 
moved from Hanover to Durham he 
planned and supervised the erection 
and equipment of the chemical labora- 
tories in the Science building. To his 
push and ability is due the fact that 
his department received better equip- 
ments than any other department. 

Professor Parsons is a member of the 
American Chemical society and was 
elected councilor of the same in 1902. 
He is a fellow of the American Asso- 
ciation for the Advancement of Science 
and the secretary of its chemical sec 
tion, 1903-1908; reporter on Nitrogen 
Associations of Official Agricultural 
Chemists, 1903; member of the 
Deutsche Chemische Gesellschaft (Ger- 
man Chemical society); author of many 
scientific papers, embodying original 



research, pulilisliocl in oliemieal jour- Parsons entertain in royal style. He 
nals, and joint antlior with Dr. A. J. has five children. 

Moses of Cohimbia university of a trea- The results from the graduates of the 
tise on " Mineralogy, Crystalography, course in chemistry have been very 
and Blowpipe Analysis," which is more flattering. They are received by all 

the leading American and foreign uni- 
versities on a par with their own for 
post-graduate study and are obtaining 
good situations at good salaries. At 
present the demand for graduates of 
this course exceeds 'the supply. 


Professor of Zoology and Entomology. 

Dr. Weed was l)orn thirty-eight years 
ago in Toledo, Ohio, and moved to 
Lansing, Mich., at an early date, 
where he was educated. He has re- 
ceived the following degrees: B. Sc, 

Charles Lathrop Parsons, B S. 

largely and generally used as a text- 
book .than any other work on the sub- 
ject and is now entering on its third 

Professor Parsons has been • abroad 
several times and investigated the work 
of his department in foreign lands. 
He is interested in historical matters 
and recently delivered an exhaustive 
address before the ISTew Hampshire 
Historical society upon the capture of 
Fort William and Mary, December l-i 
and 15, 177-i. He holds the oflfice of 
deputy governor of the General Society 
of Colonial Wars. Since he came to 

Durham he has purchased a very desir- Michigan Agricultural college, 1883; 
able homestead in the village and thor- M. Sc, 1884; D. Sc, Ohio State uni- 
oughly remodeled the house, making versify. After graduating he was asso- 
it one of the most attractive houses in ciated with Orange Judd on the 
the town where the professor and Mrs. Prairie Farmer, in Chicago, for two 

Clarence Moores Weed, D. Sc. 



years, then became assistant state ento- 
mologist of Illinois for three or four 
years; then entomologist at the Ohio 
exi3eriment station nntil called to New 
Hampshire in 1891, as professor of 
zoology and entomology at the New 
Hampshire college. He was appointed 
state nursery inspector in 1903. 

Dr. AYeed is the author of many bul- 
letins froni the Ohio and New Hamp- 
shire experiment stations, has contrib- 
uted many interesting articles for vari- 
ous leading magazines, and is the au- 
thor of a dozen books, including " In- 
sects and Insecticides," " Spraying 
Crops," " The Flower Beautiful," " Na- 
ture Biographies," " Life Histories of 
American Insects," " Stories of Insect 
Life," etc. 

Dr. AVeed and Ned Dearborn, D. Sc, 
assistant curator, department of birds. 
Field Columbian Museum, Chicago, 
have Just published " Birds in their 
Relation to Man " (380 pages, illus- 
trated). This work will ever be an au- 
thority on the subject and used as a 
text-book in the schools and colleges. 
Dr. Dearborn received his degree, D. 
Sc, for post-graduate work at the New 
Hampshire college, under Dr. AVeed. 

He is the author of a monograph on 
" Harvest Spiders," published by the 
Smithsonian institute, Washington, 
D. C. He was chairman of the school 
Ijoard in Durham the past year and 
unanimously reelected last March for a 
term of three years. He has special- 
ized in the subject of nature study in 
the schools of the state and recently is- 
sued four nature study leaflets. He 
was chairman of the committee that 
prepared the " Outline of Nature Study 
for New Hampshire Schools," adopted 
in 1902 by the State Teachers' associa- 
tion. Dr. Weed is in charge of the de- 

partment of nature study in Martha's 
Vineyard Summer institute, and for 
the past two years has been instructor 
in nature study in the New Hampshire 
Summer institute. He has been presi- 
dent of the Cambridge Entomological 
club, and is now vice-president of the 
National Association of Economic En- 
tomologists, and has been for many 
years editor of the entomological de- 
partment of the American Naturalist. 
He is married and has three children. 
Students under Dr. Weed have re- 
ceived good 230sitions. One of the first • 
special students was W. E. Britton, 
now state entomologist of Connecticut; 
another is managing editor of E.very- 
ivhere; a post-grad-uate student, prev- 
iously mentioned, is Dr. Ned Dearborn 
of the Field Museum, Chicago. Many 
others are teachers. In educational 
circles and as an author. Dr. Weed is 
pro1)ably the best known throughout 
the country of any meml^er of the fac- 


Professor of Horticulture and Forestry. 

Professor Rane was born December 
11, 1868, at Whitmore Lake, Mich.; 
educated at Ann Arbor High school, 
'86; Ohio State university, B. Agr., 
'91; Cornell imiversity, M. S., '92; 
elected horticulturist and microscopist 
to the West Virginia agricultural ex- 
periment station in the fall of '92; 
elected professor of agriculture and 
horticulture in the West Virginia uni- 
versity, '93; elected professor of agri- 
culture and horticulture in the New 
Hampshire college, and agriculturist 
and horticulturist to the New Hamp- 
shire experiment station, '95; elected 
professor of horticulture and horticul- 
turist to the New Hampshire experi- 



ment station, '98; elected' professor of 
horticulture and forestr}-, 1900. 

He was organizer and secretary of the 
West Virginia State Horticultural so- 
Science, '"94; member of the Society of 
for the Promotion of Agricultural 
Science, "94; member the Society of 
Economic Entomologists of America, 
'93; member of the American' Pomo- 
logical society, "9-4; mem])er of the 
American Association for the Advance- 
ment of Science, "92, and fellow of the 

Frank William Rane, B. Ag , M. S. 

same, '98; lecturer Massachusetts board 
of agriculture since 1900; lecturer be- 
fore the ^Massachusetts State Horticul- 
tural society, session 1902; lecturer be- 
fore the Ehode Island state board of 
argiculture, 1902; lecturer before the 
Maine state board of agriculture, 1901; 
lecturer Maine State Pomological so- 
ciety, 1902 and 1903; lecturer Xew 
Hampshire state board of agriculture 
and State Horticultural society since 
1895; Pomologist Xew Hampshire 
State Horticultural society since '95; 

member of the American Forestry as- 
sociation and the Society for the Pro- 
tection of the Xew Hampshire Forests; 
member of the Phi Delta Theta ( ) 
college fraternity, and the Alpha Zeta 
(A Z) agricultural honorary college 
fraternity; member of the grange, Free 
Masons, and the Congregational 
church. He is the author of many ex- 
periment station bulletins and other 
articles on agriculture, horticultural 
and forestry subjects. He married in 
1893 Elizabeth M. Bailey (University 
of Michigan). They have three chil- 
dren, two girls and a boy. 

Professor Bane was prominent in 
athletics while in college, winning the 
all-round gold medal at the Ohio State 
university in '91, and lowering the Cor- 
nell university 100 3'ards dash record in 
"92, and holding the same for ten years. 
He played, also, on baseball and foot- 
ball teams and was president of the 
athletic and oratorical associations 
when in college. 

Professor of Mechanical Engineering. 

Professor Bead was born in Xorth 
Hanover, Mass., and received his early 
education in the public schools and at 
AVorcester academy. He graduated 
from the Massachusetts Institute of 
Technology, department of mechanical 
engineering, in 1891. 

From 1891 to 1899 he was assistant 
and instructor in mechanical engineer- 
ing in the laboratories of the Massa- 
chusetts Institute of Technology. Since 
1899 Professor Eead has been at the 
head of the department of mechanical 
engineering and in charge of the shops 
and the power and service department 
at the Xew Hampshire college. He is 
a member of the American Society of 



Carleton Allen Read, S. B. 

Mechanical Engineers, the Society of 
Arts, and National Association of Sta- 
tionary Engineers. He is licensed in 
Massachusetts as a first-class engineer. 

Professor Eead from time to time has 
been engaged in boiler and engine test- 
ing and in designing and inspecting 
heating and ventilating systems. He 
has written papers published in the 
transactions of the American Society of 
Mechanical Engineers, the Technology 
Quarterly and other engineering pa- 
pers. He is a member of Scammell 
grange and secretary of the Durham 
Village Improvement society; is mar- 
ried and has two children. 

Students taking the mechanical en- 
gineering courses are holding excellent 
positions and receiving good salaries. 


Associate Professor of Physics and Electrical 

Professor Nesbit was born at Milton, 
He graduated from 

Lafayette college, Easton, Pa., from 
which institution he received the de- 
gree A. B., in 1892. During the years 
1892-'95 he attended the Massachu- 
setts Institute of Technology at Bos- 
ton, where he spent three years in the 
electrical engineering course, and con- 
secjuently repeated nearly all of the 
mathematics and all the physics, two 
foundation subjects required in the 
course, graduating with the degree of 
S. B.-in electrical engineering in 1895. 

Professor Nesbit the same year was 
given the honorary degree of A. M. by 
Lafayette college in recognition of his 
Avork at the Massachusetts Institute of 
Technology. - 

In June, 1895, Professor Nesbit was 
chosen to take charge of the depart- 
ment of physics and electrical engineer- 
ing, and he has built up his de|)artment 
by hard and persistent work. His 
faithful services received recognition 
at the last meeting of the board- of trus- 
tees, by an increase in salary and prom- 

Pa., in 1870. 

Arthur F. Nesbit, S. B., A. M. 



ise of an assistant in his department. 
Professor Nesbit belongs to the So- 
ciety for the Promotion of Engineering 
Edncation, and to the Congregational 
church, of which he is an influential 


Associate Professor of Dr a icing. 

Joseph Henry Hawes was born in 
South Weymouth, Mass., March' 10, 

Joseph H. Hawes. 

1869. He attended the Weymouth 
schools, graduating from the South 
High in 1886. August 30 of the same 
year he accepted a position as book- 
keeper with C. A. Hunt (afterwards 
Hunt & Elwell), of South Weymouth, 
continuing with them until the part- 
nership was dissolved, a little over five 
years in all. During the winter of 
1890-'91, the business having been 
removed to Boston, he attended the 
Boston evening drawing school, then 
at Tennyson street, George Jepson, 
principal, taking the machine drawing 

G.M. — 11 

course. This course was continued the 
following year and a position of book- 
keeper to the Brooks Banknote and 
Lithographic Co., Eoxbury, Mass., was 
filled from November, 1891, to Jan- 
uary, 1893. Professor Hawes was 
draftsman for the Golden Gate Con- 
centration Works, then of High street, 
Boston, from February to June, 1892, 
and entered the Massachusetts Normal 
Art school, Boston, in October, 1892, 
and at the same time accepted a posi- 
tion as instructor of the machine draw- 
ing classes in the Waltham (Mass.) 
evening drawing school, which posi- 
tion was held for four years. In 1894 
he graduated from classes A and C at 
the M. N. A. S. Class A is element- 
ary free-hand and mechanical drawing. 
Class C includes machine, architect- 
ural, and ship drafting. In 1894-'95, a 
year at the M. N. A. S. was spent on 
the work of class B, on charcoal draw- 
ing and water and oil painting, artistic 
anatomy, and history of art. From 
December, 1895, to August, 1896, he 
was draftsman in the office of the Bos- 
ton Transit commission, working on 
design and drawings of the Boston 
subway. In September, 1894, he qual- 
ified for a position as instructor in in- 
strumental drawing for the Boston 
evening drawing schools, and in Octo- 
ber, 1895, received an appointment as 
assistant in the school held at Me- 
chanic Arts High school building, serv- 
ing through the year of 1895-'96. He 
also had private practice in drawing 
and instruction. 

In August, 1896, he resigned the po- 
sition as draftsman with B. T. C, also 
positions as instructor in the Boston 
and Waltham evenings schools to ac- 
cept a position at the JSTew Hampshire 
college as instructor of drawing. He 



has been associate professor of drawing 
since 1899. He has been a member of 
the Society for the Promotion of En- 
gineering Education since 1900. He 
is a member of Scammell grange, is 
married and has one child. 


Associate Professor of Modern Languages. 

Professor Whoriskey was Ijorn De- 
cember 2, 1875, in Cambridge, Mass. 

Richard Whoriskey, Jr., A B. 

He was graduated at Cambridge Latin 
school in the class of 1893. He en- 
tered Harvard university and received 
the degree of A. B. in 1897. During 
the years 1897-'98 and 1898-'99 he was 
a student in pedagogy in the graduate 
school of Harvard university, during 
which period he was student-teacher at 
Medford High school and Cambridge 
evening schools. 

In the summer of 1899 he studied 
at Bonn, Germany, with Professor Hof- 
ner of the University of Giessen. In 
the suminer of 1901 he studied in Paris. 

He spent the summer of the present 
year, 1903, as a student in Eussia, un- 
der Professor Wiener at the Harvard 
summer school. 

In January, 1899, he was appointed 
instructor in modern languages at the 
ISTew Hampshire College of Agriculture 
and the Mechanic Arts. The follow- 
ing year he was made assistant profes- 
sor of modern languages at that insti- 
tution, and in September, 1903, he 
became associate professor. 

He is a member of tbe Harvard 
union, the Athletic association of Har- 
vard graduates, the Harvard Teachers' 
association, the ISTational Educational 
association, and is treasurer of the gym- 
nasium fund of the ^ew Hampshire 
College Athletic association. He is an 
unusually goad instructor in the class- 
room and popular with the students. 


Mr. John X. Brown has for many 
years been the efficient instructor in 
machine work. 

Mr. Ivan C. Weld is the instructor in 
dairying. He received practical in- 
struction under the late Prof. C. H. 
Waterhouse. Mr. Weld has recently 
returned from a foreign trip, where he 
has been studying dairy methods. 

Mr. Edward H. Hancock, B. S., is 
the instructor in mechanism and wood- 
work. He is a graduate of the Xew 
Hampshire college. 

Mr. Harry F. Hall, assistant in hor- 
ticulture, has proved to be a valuable 
man in developing the practical work 
in the horticultural operations of the 
farm and greenhouse. His horticul- 
tural exhibits at the various fairs for 
many years have attracted attention. 

Mr. Percy A. Campbell, a senior in 
the New Hampshire college, is the farm 



superintendent, and during the sum- 
mer vacation has shown that he is a 
practical farmer. He is assisted in the 
care of the barn and stock by Dana I. 

Among the new men who will com- 
mence their duties with the New 
Hampshire college this fall are the fol- 
lowing:. Mr. H. B. Pulsifer of Leba- 
non, a graduate of the ^Massachusetts 
Institute of Technology, 1903, who has 
been elected instructor in chemistry; 
Mr. H. Y. Hendricks of Holden, Mass., 
a graduate of the Worcester Polytech- 
nic Institute, has been elected assist- 
ant in physics and electrical engineer- 
ing. He was second honor man in the 
general science course, specializing in 
electrical engineering and physics. 

Mr. Ernest R. Groves of Rochester, 
instructor in English and philosophy. 
Mr. Groves is a graduate of Dartmouth, 
'03, and was the only member of his 
class who won the honor in this 
branch expressed by the term " summa 
cum laiide." He had been offered a 
chance to take a post-graduate course 
in philosophy at Dartmouth, and to act 
as assistant to Professor Campbell, but 
naturally preferred this position. He 
will take the classes in instruction that 
had been assigned to President Murk- 
land in previous years. 

;Mr. Harold H. Scudder of Washing- 
ton, D. C, has been chosen assistant 
chemist at the experiment station and 
is already here. He was graduated 
from Dartmouth last June, and has 
had practical experience in the line of 
work that he has undertaken, through 
having worked during his vacation in 
the department at Washington, under 
the chief chemist, Professor Wiley, and 
by whom he was most strongly recom- 


Professor of Agriculture. 

Professor Taylor was born on a farm 

and has always been associated with 
farm work. He graduated from the 
High school -at Wooster, Ohio, in 1893, 
and afterwards took a literary course 
at the University of Wooster. In the 
fall of 1897 he entered the agricultural 
course at the Ohio State university, 
where he graduated in 1900. 

He spent eight summer vacations 
and the whole of the first year out of 
college at the Ohio experiment station. 

In July, 1901, he entered the bureau 
of soils at Washington, where he has 
been engaged up to the present time. 
He has been engaged in soil survey 
work in New Jersey, Mississippi, South 
Carolina, and California. Since the 
first of last January Professor Taylor 
has had charge of a field party investi- 
gating the chemical and physical prop- 
erties of certain soils in New Jersey 
and southern Maryland. 

Mr. Whitney, chief of the bureau 
of soils, recommends him very highly 
and is sorry to lose him from the force, 
but has granted him indefinite leave of 
absence, and Professor Taylos can at 
any time return to Washington if he so 
desires. The agricultural department 
at Washington has every disposition to 
help -the New Hampshire station and 
college, and doubtless some lines of 
work will be taken up here in coopera- 
tion with the national department. 

Professor Taylor takes up his work 
at the New Hampshire college Septem- 
ber 1, 1903, where he will hold the po- 
sition of professor of agriculture, and 
also agriculturist at the experiment 
station. He will teach agronomy, and 
his assistant professor, E. L. Shaw, will 
teach the animal industry studies. 


Pro'fessor Shaw graduated from the securing so good professors for the ag- 

same institution two years later than ricultural department, and this depart- 

Professor Taylor. Professor Shaw has ment is hetter equipped in every way 

taught animal industry at the Missouri than ever before. The farmers should 

State college the past year with great improve the opportunity now offered 

success. them for the education of their sons. 
President Gibbs is much elated on 


By Charles W. Milleii. 

I love it still, my boyhood home, 
I love its fields and hills to roam, 
To hunt its woods, to fish its brooks, 
' And rest within its shady nooks; 

With joy I watch on sunny day, 
The shadows on the mountains play. 
Or hear, at eve, both clear and shrill, 
The plaintive notes of whippoorwill. 

Some new delight, at every turn, 

Or pleasing sight, wakes fresh concern; 

On yonder hill the feeding herd, 

On tree near by, a singing bird, 

A woodchuck shying in the grass. 

Along the road a tripping lass. 

Or hen, Just cackling from her nest, 

With all the brood's approving zest. 

Such landscape spreads before my eyes. 
As nowhere else beneath the skies; 
To picture which, I vainly ask. 
Ah, who is equal to the task? 
Of scenes less grand, skilled bards have sung 
In choicest phrase of human tongue, 
And heaven and earth full tribute paid 
To Fancy's royal accolade. 

And what is left? The birds that fly- 
That skim the ground and cleave the sky — 
No more o1)serve, nor higher soar, 
Than keen-eyed, swift-winged birds of yore. 
Have Homer, Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Scott, 
A legend, fable, myth forgot? 
The splendors of Aurora play 
O'er themes and scenes which they portray. 

*The author's early home is a hill farm situated two miles south of the village of Littleton, 
and one mile east of the Ammonoosuc river. It commands a view of the Ammonoosuc valley for a 
distance of fifteen miles, and the range of the White Mountains from Mt. Washington on the north to 
Moosilauke on the south, a distance of thirty miles. 


Could my full soul its rapture pour, 
My muse to heights Olympic soar, 
I still, like beggar at the gate, 
In silent awe and hope would wait 
If I some mystic pen might find, 
Deep-dipped in rainbow hues combined. 
Or rather, power supreme, to write 
This vision, dear to human sight. 

'Twere vain to wait for tongue of fire. 
For breath divine, or magic lyre; 
Yet lover's heart would surelv break, 
If he could not expression make 
Of passions that his soul consume; 
And, with this plea, I dare presume 
To let my heart its fondness speak, 
Though fancy halt and words be Aveak. 

This hallowed spot, in Littleton, 
Looks out on lofty Madison; 
Proud Lafayette is plain to view, 
AVith Adams and Moosehillock, too; 
While just beyond fair Eustis' sheen. 
Famed Agioochook'sf crown is seen. 
And, late in June, its white cap shows 
The weight of surly winter's snows. 

Those " Crystal Hills " that pierce the sky. 
Oft veil themselves, like maidens shy; 
Of changeful aspect, varying mood. 
By guests they are not understood; 
Eemote, reserved, and sensitive. 
They do not quick acquaintance give. 
But slowly yield their subtle charms 
To waiting eyes and outstretched arms. 

We see them hail the morning sun. 
Their glory view when day is done; 
We watch warm vapors kiss their cheeks, 
Or somber clouds above their peaks. 
Wind-borne, their moving shadows cast; 
We see them when the rain falls fast, 
Till seam and gorge and gulf run o'er 
And on the vales their largess pour. 

We see them breast the hurricane. 
And fancy they must feel keen pain, 
As, down their bare or verdured sides. 
Too oft occur terrific slides; 

t Agioochook— the Indian name of Mt. Washington, the highest peak of the White Mountain range. 


We see them when fierce lightnings flash, 
And awful thunders roll and crash, 
As if grim Pluto's breath of fire 
Had brought destruction swift and dire. 

Beyond their panoramic Adew 

Of combinations ever new. 

The hills of strength and firmness preach. 

And facts for daily use they teach; 

As weather-bureau, they inform 

The dwellers 'round of coming storm; 

Barometers, that never fail. 

They augur sunshine, rain or gale. 

How sweet the breath of mountain air! 

How cool the showers from summits bare! 

Those hills do not stern giants stand. 

But gracious angels in the land. 

We know them and fond friendship feel, 

As they their character reveal; 

And, turning toward them reverent gaze. 

We shout their Makers lofty praise. 

There, Ammonoosuc's winding stream — 

A silver ribbon's sunlit gleam — 

Flows calm through grassy meads and dales. 

More fruitful than Arcadian vales. 

Along the meadow's margin neat. 

Else homes and church and learning's seat; 

In plain simplicity they stand, 

The moral bulwarks of our land. 

The habits, forms, and hues divine — 
The face of this fair scene — are mine; 
Men own the forests and the farms, 
But hold no deed to Nature's charms; 
And theirs the mills beside the stream, 
But not the river's radiant gleam. 
For God reserves the landscape gay. 
To those who feel its magic sway. 

If fleeting days do utter speech. 

And awesome nights fair knowledge teach; 

If joyful stars of morning sung, 

Then all the works of God have tongue; 

To Him a worship pure goes up 

From every flowret's incense cup. 

And trees and hills glad paeans raise, 

Though men forget to voice His praise. 


Between the vales that smiling lie, 
And monntain altars near the sky, 
Stretch "wondrous vistas, picturesque 
As quaintest gems of arabesque; 
Here, toilsome slopes, there, restful bowers. 
And 3'onder, rugged cliffs and towers. 
Suggesting how the earnest soul 
May seek, in hope, Ambition's goal. 

How dear the carols of the thrush. 
The linnet's song in hedge and bush, 
The warble of the bluebird gay, 
And bobolink's j)leasing roundelay! 
The numerous minstrels of sweet song 
Still to my early home belong; 
And murmurs of the hills and trees 
Are yet celestial s}Tnphonies. 

The clover blushing in the field. 

The orchard-bloom and flow^ers, all yield 

A perfume sweeter far to me, 

Than odorous plants of Araby. 

The brook that flows beneath the hill, 

More charm contains than classic rill 

Of Helicon; yon bowers of pine, 

More sacred than Dodona's shrine. 

For stream and grove and field and flowers 
Beguiled my boyhood's happy hours; 
And memories weave a potent spell 
Beyond the power of tongue to tell; 
And hither manhood's steps return. 
To each blest spot, withal, to learn 
"What change full fifty years have wrought, 
AVhat wisdom gained from lessons taught. 

Ah, happy hills and pleasing shades! 
Ah, fruitful fields and wooded glades! 
The fragrant winds that from you blow, 
Xew strength, new life, new bliss bestow; 
Once more with boyhood's eyes I see. 
And feel my boyhood's painless glee; 
To kindred, friends, to all — 'tis plain — 
I live mv bovhood o'er aeain. 


Note.— The writer of this paper is greatly indebted for the historical facts to the researches of 
William Hill, Esq., of Plaistow, the "History of Hampstead," by Miss Harretta Noyes, and Currier's 
"History of Old Newbury." 

By G-eorge Rohy Bennette. 

F the many lakes that help one of those quiet cloisters of nature,, 
to make beautiful the where the tired competitor in the busy 
landscape of southern marts of life may come, and, leaving 
New Hampshire, there care behind, enjoy her, face to face, 
are perhaps none that for The two largest islands are Escam- 
beauty of surroundings and the rich- buet, so called from an Indian chief of 
ness of its historical interest can com- that name, said to have had his wig- 
pare with the so-called Island Pond wam there beneath the shelter of its 
(christened Lake Wentworth), situated trees, and Governor's island, named for 
in the southern part of Eockingham one of its first owners, 
county, between and forming a part of Local tradition has it that Escam- 
the towns of Derry, Salem, and Hamp- buet was the stopping-place of the 
stead, and covering, with its many is- northern Indians the night before their 
lands, some nine hundred acres. historical raid on Haverhill, where 
From time immemorial its shores Hannah Dustin was carried into cap- 
and peaceful waters have been the re- tivity. 

sort of the fisherman and pleasure- With the exception, perhaps, of some 
seeker, and the arrow-heads and many of the seaboard towns, no place in 
rude weapons and other articles of In- southern New Hampshire has been 
dian manufacture, found on its shores, more intimately associated with the 
go to show that the original owners of names and lives of men who helped to 
the waters knew and appreciated its make New England what it is than 
many beauties and advantages. Governor's island, the largest of the 
Its shores are beautifully diversified group. It is said that there is an acre 
by wood and field, and within a few in it for every day in the year, though 
years the numerous' camps that have the old survey gives it five hundred, 
been built along its sides, and beneath Its first single owner was the Hon. 
the shelter of its murmuring pines, Eichard Saltonstall of Haverhill in the 
have brought many pilgrims from the colony of Massachusetts, who received 
neighboring cities to enjoy its health- it from the proprietors of Haverhill, of 
giving airs and its charming scenery. which it then formed a part, as a par- 
Numerous islands dot its placid tial compensation for the valuable ser- 
bosom, and the somber pine and grace- vices he gave that town in the spring 
ful birch vie with the stately elm and of 1731. 
dark spreading evergreen in forming Saltonstall was born in Haverhill, 



June 2-i, 1703; graduated from Har- 
vard in 1722, was commissioned as 
colonel in 1726, judge of the superior 
court in 1736, and was for several years 
one of the council of his majesty 
George the Second. He died in 1756. 
Saltonstall sold the island m 1734 to 
Jonathan Eastman, and his uncle, Pe- 
ter Green, who sold it to Benning 

dragged through the woods for weeks, 
until they reached Canada, when she 
made her escape by the help of a kind- 
hearted French woman who secreted 
her in her own house for three years, 
where her husband found her and led 
her back through the wilderness to 
Haverhill, where they lived for many 
years, and became the progenitors of a 
long line of men and women who have 

^^The cliiinney still standing . . . The high, viassive walls of stones picked from tlif fields^ 

Jonathan was a son of 
Jonathan Eastman and his wife, Han- 
nah (Green) Eastman. The latter was 
called bv the Indians " Fat Hannah " 
and was taken by them from Haverhill 
in 1704 and carried to Canada. At the 
time of the assault on the garrison 
house she was in bed with a young 
daughter, only eight days old. After 
seeing the infant's brains dashed out 
by the inhuman foe, she was forced to 
rise, and, in her scanty clothing, was 

made their mark on the nation's 

In April of 1741 the island was pur- 
chased by Benning Wentworth of 
Portsmouth, the recently appointed 
governor of the province of New 
Hampshire, for whom it was named 
and in whose possession it remained 
until his death in 1770, twenty-two 

Benning Wentworth was born in 
Portsmouth in 1695, the oldest son of 



'■'■The skeletons of old trees.'''' 

Lieut. -Gov. John Wentworth, and 
graduated from Harvard in 1715. He 
served in his father's counting house 
for some years, but afterwards went to 
sea, where he soon became captain of 
one of the company's ships. After the 
a^Dpointment of John as governor, Ben- 
ning left the sea and took charge of 
the business of the family. 

He was chosen to represent his na- 
tive town in the assembly in 1730, and 
was appointed councilor for the king 
in 1734, when he made several trips to 
England and is said to have had his 
lodgings in Hampstead, near London. 
Upon the removal of Governor Bel- 
cher, in 1741, he was appointed to his 
place. He died in 1770, the most pop- 
ular governor of New Hampshire un- 
der provincial rule. 

There are no records of any im- 
provements on the island during its 
ownership by Saltonstall, though on 

its southeifrt'pnS: a-re the traces of old 
cellars, ;,ol' w^i'ch there is no history. 
Old pei(^ple who lived a hundred years 
ago C(|ti]»^';givei.iio account of them, or 
of tho^'who had lived there; but under 
Went\V^orth the wilderness blossomed 
and bo^e fruit. 

On a high, rocky bluff, extending 
into the lake at the northern end of 
the island, he ,b.uilt a hunting lodge 
and farmhouse, with ample barns and 
out-houses, enclosed ■;^y.,ina*ssive stone 
walls, most of them still standing. 
They were constructed of the rough 
stones near at hand and their thick- 
ness and height (some of them 
at least ten feet) seem to prove that 
they were built for protection as well 
as for an enclosure. The lodge was 
burned somewhere in the fifties, and 
the farmhouse, later on, was taken 
down and rebuilt on the mainland. 

The big chimney, still standing with 



the foundations of barns and other 
buildings, the vegetable cellar, built 
into the ground on the side of the bluff 
and arched with stone, as was the 
fashion in those days, together with 
the skeletons of fruit trees that show 
the marks of a century's struggle with 
the elements scattered about the island, 
show that at one time farming must 
have been carried on extensively. 

Entrance is obtained to the island 
by boat, and also by a narrow cause- 
way at the south end, called the Red 
Gate. On the Derry side, a long pier 
of huge boulders, running into the 
water, shows where an effort was made 
to bridge the lake on that side, they 
having evidently been moved on to the 
ice in winter and allowed to sink into 
place with the return of spring. 

After the governor's death the is- 
land became the property of his widow, 

the fair Amy Wentworth, of Whittier's 
poem, and tradition tells of letters 
wherein are written tales of pleasant 
journeys on horseback through the 
half-settled country between Ports- 
mouth and Birch Farm (the name by 
which it was then known), and of 
happy hours passed beneath its sylvan 

In 1780 the fair widow sold the 
island to Tristram Dalton of Newbury- 
port, by no means the least noteworthy 
of the many who have been its own- 
ers. He was born in Newbury in 
1728, son of Capt. Michael Dalton, and 
his wife, Mary Little. He graduated 
from Harvard in 1755, and in law a 
few years later. In 177-1 he was 
elected delegate to the provincial con- 
gress, and in 1776 representative to 
the general court. During the Eevo- 
lutionary war he was a strong sup- 

" Willows along the shore.'" 



porter of the Continental government, 
and was a member of the constitu- 
tional convention. He was elected by 
Massachusetts as one of the two sena- 
tors to the First congress. He died 
in Boston in 1817. 

Dalton sold the island in 1799 to 
Jonathan Wright; AYright's heirs to 
Thomas Huse in 1803; Huse to Isaac 
Colby in 1810; Colby to Gov. Edward 
Everett, whose brother Frank lived on 
the farm and died there in 1815. 

Isaac Colby bought the island of 
Thomas Huse for forty-five hundred 
dollars. (It is now valued at fifteen 
thousand.) He had three sons born 
there. Nathaniel Berry, for many 
years master carpenter and bridge in- 
spector for the Boston and Worcester 
railroad, Allen Colb}^, roadmaster for 
the Portland and Kennebec railroad, 
and James Knight Colby, principal for 
years of the St. Johnsbury (Vermont) 
academy, and father of James Fair- 

banks Colby, professor of law at Dart- 
mouth college. 

Everett sold it to ISTathaniel Gilman 
of Exeter, a man well known in New 
Hampshire's history. In 1864 it was 
bought by Tappan Carter of Hamp- 
stead, father of the irrepressible Hosea 
B., who after clearing it of the mag- 
nificent growth of timber at its south- 
ern end sold it to the Littles of West 
Newbury, by whom it is now owned. 

Today its lonely woodland shades 
and wide, deserted fields shelter only 
the grazing kine. In its peaceful, 
winding paths the rabbit plays with its 
young, and the wily fox steals silently 
on its prey. Deep in its heart the 
bluebird sings, and the robin whistles 
its cheerful tune. Along its shores the 
water murmurs to the whispering pines 
old tales of the vanished years, and 
over all hangs the soft sweet glamor of 
the long ago. 


On fair Lake AYentworth's silvery tide, 

The water lilies blow; 
The wild ducks through the rushes 

That close along its wooded side, 

In rank profusion grow. 

The smiling fields that girt it round. 

In softest beauty swell; 
With shady grove and sunny mound. 
Where many a modest flower is found, 

And many a ferny dell. 

Its leaping waters rippling flow. 

By soft, green islands fair; 
While glancing bird forms come and 

Through all the hours to and fro. 
Within the perfumed air. 

The Indian, in his light canoe, 

Once glided o'er its waves; 
Its wooded shores his war-whoop knew. 
As through the air his arrows flew, 
The welcome of the braves. 

How often on its glassy breast 

AVe've pulled the laboring oar, 
While floating echoes from the crest 
Of " Eagle Cliff " our songs confessed 
To all the listening shore. 

From " Pleasant point " by " Marble's 
We passed " Old Governor's isle," 
Through "Peaty bog" to "Chase's 

O'er banks where finny legions rove, 
The sportsman to beguile. 



The " Lone Pine " stands in stately Where " Hundred Islands " sylvan 

pride, bright, 

Close by its gushing spring; Lie sleeping in the evening's light, 

While ^' Blackstone " answers as a Eefiected in the " Bay." 


By which to reach " Old Boston's " The " Eed Gate's " toilsome " strait " 

side, is past 

" Twin island's " rocky ring. With many a weary sigh. 

And soon we find ourselves at last 

By " Escambuet's ' wooded height, Safe back again with anchor cast. 

We next will take our way; 

Point Pleasant " lying nigh. 


Brj C. C. Lord. 

5^^^f^^ HE town of Hopkinton, a 
'MfSa WXMl grant in 1T36, a corpora- 
tion in 1765, and a mu- 
nicipality to this day, has 
known its trials and per- 
ils. It has seen social commotions, 
warlike dangers, and diseased afHic- 
tions. Yet it has never experienced a 
more fearful distress than that caused 
by the throat-distemper, which visited 
the locality about the year 1820. Tra- 
dition says this disease killed seventy- 
two children of the town. The public 
records of disease and death of the 
time are incomplete. Yet enough is 
recorded to attest the cause of the 
deadly alarm and distress that then 
afflicted the local community. In the 
perusal of the existing records, one is 
not surprised that even to this day the 
history of the direful visit of the 
throat-distemper is still potently active 
in the minds of the oldest inhabitants. 
The throat-distemper was present in 
Hopkinton in 1821. It claims, at least, 
one victim as late as 1832. Most of 
the patients were young children, in 
whose favor medical skill very often 

failed. The disease was so deadly that 
parents forecast the fate of their off- 
spring in blank despair. Even before 
its attack upon a household the distem- 
per was apprehended and expected, and 
the result of its assailing force con- 
ceived to be as deadly as it was sure. 
In our later time of increased scien- 
tific knowledge, advanced medical 
practice and legal cognizance of epi- 
demic disease, we have little compre- 
hension of social and domestic afflic- 
tion as it was in Hopkinton when the 
great epidemic of throat-distemper 
was here. 

What was the "throat-distemper?" 
We do not know. If we were to ask 
almost any physician of the present 
day, he would likely enough say " diph- 
theria." We have no right to pro- 
nounce the answer incorrect. The dis- 
ease now known as diphtheria was de- 
tected and described by Dr. Josiah 
Bartlett, of Kingston, long be- 
fore 1800. Yet we are writing an 
historical article, and history is en- 
titled to its opinions as well as its facts. 
In the earlier medical nomenclature of 



ISTew England, there is no such term 
as " dijihtheria.'' In consulting the 
medical literature of a century agO;, one 
will he likely to find descriptions of 
'' quinsy,'' " jjutrid sore throat," " can- 
ker-rash," not to mention " throat-dis- 
temper," and each and all of them were 
often fatal to children; but he will dis- 
cover no mention of " diphtheria," a 
name of relatively modern adoption for 
something that affects the throat. Yet 
we will introduce a professional opinion 
of an earlier day. The late Dr. Alex- 
ander Eogers, of Hopkinton, was horn 
in 1815 and died in 1886. He held a 
diploma of the allopathic school of 
medicine. He lived in a time which 
brought him into close association with 
the old physicians who saw and treated 
" throat-distemper," if he did not him- 
self prescribe for one or more cases. 
We once asked Dr. Eogers if the 
" throat-distemper," which was evident 
in the great Hopkinton epidemic, was 
identical with " diphtheria." He 
promptly and i^ositively said it was not. 
Entering upon the history of the af- 
firmed two diseases, he said that " diph- 
theria " is constitutional in its com- 
plete manifestations, while the 
" throat-distemper " was essentially lo- 
cal. His description of " throat-dis- 
temper " was of a " malignant quinsy." 
It incurred local irritation, inflamma- 
tion, swelling, and suffocation. Doubt- 
less these were incidental symptoms he 
did not mention. Dr. Eogers was 
either right or wrong. Upon our own 
authority, we shall not attempt to say 

Yet there are traditional reasons for 
thinking that Dr. Eogers may have 
been right. There were at least two 
physicians that successfully treated the 
" throat-distemper " in Hopkinton. 

One of these was a resident and the 
other a non-resident of the town. We 
will first speak of the resident one. He 
was Dr. Stephen Currier. 

Dr. Stephen Currier was born in 
1775 and died in 1862. He practised 
medicine in Hopkinton both before and 
after the great epidemic we have under 
historic consideration. In the pro- 
gress of this popular affliction, among 
several other physicians in town, he 
had his share of cases. He lost only 
one patient, a child in a distressingly 
poor family, and who was devoid of 
proper care and nursing. Mr. George 
AV. Currier, son of Dr. Stephen Cur- 
rier, was born in 1816 and is now liv- 
ing. Mr. Currier is a man of superior 
intelligence and culture. He is an old- 
time teacher of schools, public official, 
and general man of affairs. He is in 
an eminent sense an informed man. 
His opinions are worth attention. He 
remembers the incidents of his father's 
long professional career and says that 
the " throat-distemper " was not the 
disease now called " diphtheria." In 
part he recollects his father's practice 
in contention with it. A poultice of 
malt was applied to the neck. An un- 
remembered specific was exhibited in- 
ternally. We regret ignorance of this 
specific. Thus we pass to the consid- 
eration of the non-resident physician. 

Dr. Michael Tubbs lived in Deering. 
His wife was a sister of Euth Chase, 
the second wife of John Hubbard, who 
lived in Hopkinton at the time of the 
great epidemic. Mrs. Hubbard, in ap- 
prehension and despair, had also in 
imagination buried all her young chil- 
dren exposed to the dread distemper. 
Yet Dr. Tubbs, the husband of her sis- 
ter, said that, if called in season he 
could cure every ease as certain as 



water Avoiild quench fire. Conse- 
quently, wlicn Sarah, the youngest 
daughter in the Hubbard family, was 
taken ill, complaining that her " neck 
ached,"' Dr. Tubbs was summoned 
from Deering in haste. Sarah was 
sa.ved, and so were all of the eighteen 
children that he treated in Hopkin- 
ton. He refused to treat one child, 
who he said was already dying. 

A^Oiat did Dr. Tubbs do? Two very 
simple things. First, he put around 
the neck a bandage of wool, saturated 
with a solution of common salt in vine- 
gar; second, he gave balsam of fir in- 
ternally. This was all there was of it. 
Still we m^ust think that Dr. Stephen 
Currier and Dr. ]\Iichael Tubbs had a 
like conception of the nature of the 
disease with which they were dealing. 
We must infer that they conceived that 
the malady was essentially local. They 
apparently administered true, allo- 
pathic treatment. The essence of allo- 
pathy is counter-irritation. An excit- 
ing, stimulating, fomenting, or irritat- 
ing application to the neck tends to 
relieve irritation, congestion, swelling, 
and suffocation in the throat. An in- 
ternal specific that promotes perspira- 
tion in the skin, laxness of the bowels, 
and action by the kidneys, is a signal 
help in such a case. Balsam of fir af- 
fords just this help. We must think 
that Dr. Currier, in "■ throat-distem- 
per " exhibited balsam of fir or some- 
thing else Just as good. 

In considering the great epidemic 
under discussion, we have no right to 
say that no patients were saved except 
those of Dr. Stephen Currier and Dr. 
Michael Tubbs. Yet what of the tra- 
ditional seventy-two children that were 
not saved by any one? Ignoring the 
case that Dr. Currier lost, and the one 

that Dr. Tubbs refused to treat, there 
are seventy fatal cases subject to the 
speculative consideration of the pres- 
ent mind. We shall not attempt the 
discussion of the minutiae of this mat- 
ter. In the existence of a great epi- 
demic of disease, there are various 
causes that make one patient liable to 
die and another one likely to live. 
Yet, in Hopkinton's great epidemic, 
what conditions of professional judg- 
ment gave Dr. Currier and Dr. Tubbs 
their special ability to save their cases? 
Tradition gives to no other local physi- 
cian equal success. Doubtless, in Hop- 
kinton, at that time, there was as much 
or even more classical medical culture 
in other physicians who practiced in 
the town. We must believe, however, 
that Dr. Currier and Dr. Tubbs pos- 
sessed an inherent instinct of correct 
diagnosis. They were natural doctors. 
The true physician, like the real art- 
ist and actual poet, is born, not made; 
and no amount of mere classical cul- 
ture can produce him. Educated, au- 
thoritative, professional knowledge is 
good. The more there is of it, the bet- 
ter. Yet inborn common sense is the 
basis of the success of the practical 
physician. Dr. Stephen Currier, of 
Hopkinton, and Dr. Michael Tubbs, of 
Deering, appear to have been largely 
endowed with it. 

We have given the traditional num- 
ber of deaths in Hopkinton during the 
great epidemic. We have no means of 
ascertaining the exact truth. That 
the stated number of deaths is war- 
ranted we have no doubt. There is no 
adequate record of deaths of that 
dreadful time. The only approach to 
an adequate record is found on the 
pages of the First Congregational 
church in Hopkinton. AVe have no as- 



stirance that the church record includes 
all the deaths. We know that it does 
not cite all the causes of death. 
Neither does it give the ages of all who 
died. Such as it is, we compile from 
this record a series of data, represent- 
ing only instances of the assertion of 
" throat-distemper " as the cause of 
death, with our own remarks, as fol- 

Dec. 16. Jonathan French, son of 

Grover and Lydia Dodge3 
Child of Mr. Wheeler. . . . 
Elizabeth, daughter of 

Timothy Colby 10 

In the absence of positive informa- 
tion, we naturally infer that the epi- 
demic broke out near the close of the 

Jan. 6. John Potter at J. Pach's . 10 

Child of Mr. Davis 2 

Feb. 13. Lydia Dodge, daughter of 

Josiah and Betsey Patch 3 
Mar. 17. Harry, son of Nathaniel 

Patch 6 

Mar. 19. Child of Nathaniel Patch 4 
Aj)r. 14. Elizabeth, daughter of 

Benjamin French 3 

Apr. 16. Eleanor, daughter of 

same 11 

Apr. 23. Mary Eliza Calef (?), 

daughter of Andrew 

Aim (?) 11 

May 3. Emily, daughter of Jacob 

Kimball 6 

May 18. Adeline, daughter of same 3 

May 30. Eebecca Fifield 

June 26. Child of Mr. Wheeler. . . 
June 29. Enoch, son of I. Long. . 
July 3. Child of Mr. Libby. .^ . . 
Aug. 9. George, son of Mr. 

Churcli 6 

Aug. 26. Child of Mr. Flagg 5 

Sept. 15. 

Sept. 23. 

Sept. 26. 

Oct. 5. 











Oct. 20. 

Sewell, son of David Al- 
len 6 

Childof Mr. Burbauk... 3 
Mary, daughter of Wid- 
ow Brown 7 

Joseph, son of AYilliam 

Wiggin 4 

John Kimball 12 

Child of Jonathan Bur- 

Moore, adopted child of 

Thomas Williams .... 3 
Mary Ann, daughter of 

Nathan Kelley. 14 

John, son of Aaron Ray. 3 
Harriet, daughter of Na- 
than Kelley 9 

Martha, daughter of Moses 

Gould 12 

Child of Eufus Putnam. . 3 
Charles C, son of Moses 

Gould 9 

Samuel, son of Simpson. 5 
Child of Elijah Adams. . 3 
Mary Ann, daughter of 

Andrew Leach 

Child of Josiah Chandler 8 
Hannah, daughter of Jo- 
seph Eastman 8 

The child of Mr. Church, deceased 
August 9, appears to have been the pa- 
tient lost by Dr. Stephen Currier. The 
adopted child of Thomas Williams, de- 
ceased in October, appears to have been 
Francis R. Moore. His gravestone, in 
the village old cemetery, asserts his 
death to have occurred on October 16, 
and that his age was 4 years. The fol- 
lowing is the unique epitaph of this 
unfortunate child: 

" He tasted of life's bitter cup, 
Refused to drink the portion up, 
But turned his little head aside, 
Disgusted with the taste, and died."' 
















1823. years, and the other of William Ord- 

Feb. 7. Child of Mr. Flanders ... 14 way. In 1833, in March, a child of 

Feb. 8. Maria, daughter of Moses Morrill Clement died, and one amiota- 

Chandler 16 tion of the church record stops. 

Feb. 28. Child of Mr. Flanders . . . Hopkinton's great epidemic has 

Mar. 31. Child of Jacob Silver. . .11 passed into history. There is no pres- 

Apr. 3. Child of -Jacob Silver... 5 ent probability that its like will occur 

Apr. 9. Child of J. Silver again in the same locality. It is now 

June 15. Child of Ichabod Eaton. proper to consider the cause of the 

June 22. Child of .Ichabod Eaton. great epidemic we have described. 

June 28. Mr. Savory Upon this point our ideas are largely, 

June 28. Child of Ichabod Eaton. and of necessity, speculative. The 

Oct. 27. Jonathan Emerson " throat-distemper" was doubtless con- 
tagious. Adopting the modern theory 

In the immediately foregoing data of the predisposing causes of conta- 
the deaths of three children of Ichabod gious, epidemic disease, we have con- 
Eaton are noted. If one now visits ceptions worth present announcement, 
the ancient cemetery on Putney's hill. Assuming that imperfect drainage is 
in Hopkinton, and enters it by the a potent factor in the cumulative re- 
gate, he will observe three small, un- suits of epidemic disease, we have a 
marked graves at the right of the en- deductive reason for the great epidemic 
trance. These are the graves of the in Hopkinton. This popular affiiction 
Eaton children. To the informed ob- occurred when the general mind of so- 
server these three lowly mounds are ciety had little knowledge of the laws 
perpetual reminders of the great and by which communicable disease is 
direful epidemic that furnishes the propagated. At that time people lo- 
subject of this article. The names of cated dwellings, wells, sinks, drains, 
these Eaton children w^ere Charles, sties, hovels, etc., paying little or no 
Elizabeth, and Eebecca. attention to their proximity or pollut- 

The great epidemic apparently dated ing liabilities. More than this, in the 
at the close of 1823. We in all note village of Hopkinton, where the great 
fifty-three deaths ascribed to it. Indi- epidemic may (or may not) have be- 
cations seem to warrant the belief that gun, there was a peculiar and scientifi- 
the complements of the tradition at cally apprehensive situation. The 
seventy-two actually occurred. In northerly and easterly portion of this 
1824 one mention of the distemper is village is geographically of a sandy 
found recorded on the church book, formation of great depth. Early wells 
It specifies the case of Aurora F. West, were very deep and must have been in- 
adopted child of Dea. Thomas Farwell, fected with surface drainage. The 
who died October 10, aged 9- years, southerly and westerly part is more 
No other record of death by throat- rocky and less absorptive, while close 
distemper appear till January 4, 1827, to the heart of the village, in a natural 
when a child of John Quimby died, depression of the surface, was a morass, 
aged 2. In 1831, April 1, two chil- destitute of an outlet, of never-failing 
dren died — one of Samuel Palmer, 2 water, the site of which is known as 




the Frog pond to this ({-Ay. How 
could the A'illage of Hopkintou be a 
healthful locality? This question ap- 
parently forced itself on the village 
residents. A sanitary change came. 
From 1835 to 1838, Col. Stephen H. 
Long, U. S. A., lived in Hopkinton vil- 
lage. His house is now " Elmhurst,"' 
the home of Kobert E. Kimball. This 
residence is on the South road and 
faces the Frog pond. During his lo- 
cation here, Colonel Long affected the 
drainage of the pond. This was the 
beginning of more healthful prospects. 
Yet another work was logically de- 
manded. The water of those old, deep 
wells was unsafe. Hon. Horace Chase 
I^rojected the Village Aqueduct asso- 
ciation, incorporated in 1840, and by 
which the village is supplied with soft, 
pure water from copious springs on the 
easterly and southerly slope of Put- 
ney's hill. In 1884, in consequence of 
the defects of the old one, a new drain 

was constructed for the Frog pond. 
The sanitary necessity for this act was 
attested at a hearing by the selectmen 
of the town on July 36 of that year. 
Medical authority Avas represented by 
Dr. Irving A. Watson, secretary of the 
state board of health, and by Dr. Alex- 
ander Eogers and Dr. George H. Pow- 
ers, of Hopkinton, all of whom em- 
phatically affirmed the dangerous char- 
acter of the pond, filled as it was with 
stagnant water. 

There is more than one way by which 
contagious or infectious disease can be 
communicated. Yet all modern scien- 
tific authority points to the correction 
of the deductions we herein present in 
reference to the historic, great epi- 
deniic of " throat-distemper " in Hop- 
kinton. If it is hardly probable that 
another like it will ever happen again, 
the public can thank the later social 
and civil knowledge that affords the 
sure 23recautions in prevention of it. 


[Written by Fred Myron Colby, and read at the dedication of the Soldiers' 
Monument at Warner, New Hampshire, July 3, 1903.] 

In Rome's proud Forum, in the days gone by. 
Sublimely towering "neath Italia's sky. 
There stood a monument of plastic art 
Endeared by ages to the Eoman heart. 
Calmly it gazed in palpitating air 
Upon the Forum's noisy stir and blare. 
The statue of a hero wrought in brass, 
A hero far above the common mass— 
Horatius — he who kept the bridge of old. 
Whose daring deed has been for ages told. 
And ever, looking at the hero's face, 
The world-crowned victors gloried in their race. 
That god-like figure towering bright and fair 
Incited them to deeds of glory rare; 

POEM. 159 

And wliile Horatius stood, no Eoman knee 
In homage bent to despot's tyranny, 

Lo! here beneath oxir own New Hampshire skies 
Another hero towers before our eyes. 
Among these hills he grew to manhood's age 
And dreamed of glory and of wisdom sage. 
■In later fields he won a high renown 
And made his name an honor to our town. 
A man of stately presence, god-like, tall, 
A warrior at the nation's battle call; 
His voice it was cheered marching soldiers on; 
His sword was drenched in many honors won; 
His arm was lifted in its towering might 
To shield the Union and defend the Eight: 
And when at last the Victory was acliieved, 
The laurel leaves a statesman's forehead wreathed. 
In lasting bronze he stands with us to-day, 
A silent witness of this brave display. 
His life-like statue tells what may be done 
By those who dare; what honors may be won 
"By honest purpose and determined will. 
Gazing upon these features calm and still, 
"\Ye feel what 'tis to breathe in Freedom's air. 
And to recall from History's pages fair 
The deeds of those who risked their lives to save 
The flag and break the shackles of the slave. 
Majestic, noble heart! Lead on once more 
New Hampshire's sons as in the days of yore. 
And long as bronze shall live and granite stand 
Will Faith and Freedom flourish in our land. 

■s^ ■$(. se. ^ ^ 

Soldiers of the grand old army, here to-day I speak to you, — 
You who bore the brunt of battle — gallant boys in Union Blue. 
On the tide of Memory lifted, comes to us a vision grand 
Of the mustering of heroes to defend our well-loved land. 
I can see your columns marching, I can hear the bugles play, 
As you bore the Starry Banner which our breezes kiss to-day. 
Sturdy tramp of Union soldiers, kindling all our veins with fire, 
Marching at the call of Freedom, youth and hoary-headed sire. 
Southward rolled that human deluge of two million men or more. 
And the thunder of your cannon shook our land from shore to shore. 
From the East and West you gathered, when the jSTation's fight was on. 
And your cohorts never ivavered till the bloody field was won. 
Four long cruel years of conflict — years that crimsoned land and sea — 
Till at last " Old Glory " floated o^'er a nation of the free. 

Comrades, do you not remember? Still it seems but scarce a day 
Since your gallant hosts assembled and the squadrons marched away. 



It shall never be forgotten what you suffered in tlie strife; 
How you gave up home and kindred, all you valued most in life; 
How your comrades died around you: on a hundred fields they fell: 
You can hear their groans of anguish rising o'er the rebel yell. 
A}^, and you have not forgotten all your longing dreams of home, 
As you slept by gleaming campfires under heaven's azure dome. 
Oh, the long and weary marches as you followed drum and fife. 
Dreary watches, lingering sieges and the deadly crimsoned strife; 
And the blood you shed like water that our country's flag might wave 
O'er an undivided nation, filling many a hero's grace. 
By the waters of Potomac, 'mongst the hills of Tennessee, 
All. along the trail of battle from Atlanta to the sea, 
And the grassy graves of thousands of our gallant boys in blue, 
Sleeping there by swamp and bayou 'neath the Southern sun and dew. 

Veterans, in your grim, bronzed faces, like a volume's open page, 

I can read the hard campaignings that have grizzled you with age. 

Year by year a lessening number gather on Memorial day, 

Year by year your slower footsteps tell the progress of decay. 

Soon shall Sons of Veterans marching to yon graveyard by the hill 

Wreathe your grassy mounds in springtime where you slumber calm and still. 

But your ringing deeds of valor, they shall never be forgot. 

Carved in stone and writ on vellum, lo, your names shall perish not. 

In a nation's grateful heart-throbs shall endure for many a day 

Memory of our Union heroes, conquerors of the men in gray. 

So to-day we rear this granite, rising grandly to the sky; 

Setting forth the ancient legend how brave deeds can never die; 

Strong and sturdy as the heroes when they marched a million grand 

To preserve our banner stainless and to save our fatherland. 

Yours the proudest record written upon History's storied page; 

And you leave to future ages a most glorious heritage. 

In your honor, noble heroes, we have reared this costly stone. 

And it will outlive in grandeur Guelf or Hohenzollem throne. 

Dearer than the proudest trophy won by kings in olden time 

Is this granite shaft of glory standing 'neath this church tower chime. 

Here your children's children pausing shall extol each hero's name, 

And these hills shall gaze forever on this tribute to your fame. 



Bij II. G. Leslie, 21. D. 

g^^^KO]\[ the cradle to the 
' grave " is a quotation sup- 
posed to mark the most 
PJ2 important epochs of hu- 
man existence — the en- 
trance and exit from the stage of life. 
Secondary to these and of scarcely less 
importance are the events which are 
the filling to the biographical warp. 
Among these to the youth of Shore- 
line was that day when they for the 
first time were allowed the full manage- 
ment and sailing of a boat. In in- 
fancy, when other children, in other 
localities, were being trundled up and 
down the sidewalk in abbreviated car- 
riages, the youthful Shoreliner received 
his sanitary installments of fresh air in 
a dory. His infantile eyes saw no pink 
and white conception of silk and lace, 
but rather the coarse fabric of a fisher- 
man sail. In place of the rough 
jounce and rattle of wheels on the ir- 
regular pavements, his ears heard the 
soft swish of the water, and he was 
soothed by a smooth and rythmic mo- 
tion. With this preliminary training, 
was it a matter of wonder that when, 
after having donned the distinctive sex 
habiliments, it seemed an important oc- 
casion when his apprenticeship ended 
and he was entrusted with ever so much 
abbreviated sail, to handle the sheet 
and rudder untrammeled by supervi- 

Holmes says of a horse, that " At his 
best he is an amiable idiot, and at his 
worst an irresponsible maniac." In 
the hands of an amateur, a fisherman's 
dory is an exceedingly treacherous and 

unsatisfactory piece of mechanism. 
Every square inch of its smooth, sweep- 
ing sides seems endowed with perver- 
sity, and a wicked desire to drown its 
unwary occupant. The Chinese paint 
eyes on the bows of their boats, that 
they may see. The dory has no need 
for eyes. By some insensible means of 
communication with the wind god, it 
seems to have notice of every coming 
squall, and long before the unwary nov- 
ice realizes its proximity, the craft is 
going through a series of antics, suf- 
ficient to terrify its occupant into a 
state of utter imbecility. When once 
it feels the grasp of oar and twist of 
sheet, known only to expert hands, it 
becomes the' most docile of servants. 

From childhood to old age the 
dweller on the banks of the river is so 
intimately associated with his boat 
that he s'aems to become a part of it, 
in a way, like those strange creatures, 
described by old writers, half horse and 
half man. It is the means always at 
hand for an hour's pleasure excursion; 
it conveys him on his various business 
trips up and down river, to the fishing 
grounds, to the clam flats, and, in fact, 
is almost a constant companion. Un- 
der his skilful guidance no waves are 
too rough, or no winds too uncertain. 

From time to time Captain Somes 
invited me to accompany him on his 
various trips. His absolute mastery 
of his boat, the ease and surety with 
which he met the variable conditions 
of wind and water, made it a constant 
pleasure for me to watch him. A slip 
of the sheet, a turn of the oar, that 

i62 BOA TING. 

seemed instinctive, met every varying for an hour. Such was the bare de- 
requirement, and I felt a sense of abso- scription, but words seemed lacking to 
lute safety while in his care. describe its excellence. 

At varying intervals of time Captain The preliminary act was to procure 

Somes indulged in what might safely the corn meal and for this purpose it 

be termed culinary eccentricities. The became necessary to visit an old tide 

old spirit of the sea seemed to rise up mill, situated some two miles away on 

and dominate his being. the opposite shore. On this trip I had 

I do not suppose he felt that he was an invitation to accompany him. '• 

offering sacrifice to any particular The wind was light and the dory 

deity, when he placated his longing for crept silently up the stream, with lit- 

blue water and flowing sail, by com- tie or no apparent need for guidance, 

pounding those indigestible monstrosi- " Did you ever," said Captain Jared, 

ties known to seafaring men as lob " read of some literary f ellars near 

sauce and plum duff, but to any or- Boston, that bought a farm and all 

dinary individual they would furnish went to live together like a Sunday 

an excellent preparatory course were school picnic? Every one turned in 

he called on to pose in the character of what he had in a common stock, and 

the " Dying Gladiator." every one did just what they had a 

For some weeks I had known that mind to do, work or play, sing or 
the Captain was developing one of his preach, and no boss over them. I 
periodic attacks. At the various meals never understood rightly what they 
prepared by Mrs. Somes, instead of ex- expected to get out of it. The school- 
pressing his appreciation, which he master that boarded with me last win- 
might very Justly have done, he alluded ter had a book that told a good deal 
to the gastronomic excellence of the about it, but at any rate Silas Foster, 
strange and curious compounds which that owns the mill where we are going, 
he had eaten in various parts of the was one of those chaps. He's a nice 
world. Cod's head muddle suggested old man but an awful odd stick. Now 
itself in his bill of fare, as a particu- perhaps he won't hardly speak while 
larly appetizing combination, but he we are there — ^just look after the mill 
finally settled upon the fact that noth- and seem to be thinking all the time. 
ing in this world was quite as delect- Then again perhaps he will talk, and 
able as squel, and he assured us that when he does Parson Sawyer can't hold 
as soon as he could procure the proper a candle to him. Why he can preach 
materials we should enjoy a dish, not more of a sermon in ten minutes than 
to be forgotten to our dying day. Ac- any other man you ever saw." 
cording to his description it was neces- I had little difficulty in recognizing 
sary to have a very excellent quality of the fact that the book of which Cap- 
corn meal, with which to prepare the tain Jared spoke was Hawthorne's 
preliminary mush or hasty pudding.' '" Blithedale Romance," in which Silas 
After this was cold, a sc|uare was to be Foster figured in the character of the 
cut from the center and this cavity farmer. 

filled with nice pork scraps, and the While we were talking the boat crept 

whole to be placed in an oven to bake into the little harbor at the mouth of 



tlie creek, and a scene which for pic- 
turesque beauty met my eye, such as 
one might paint in fancy, hut never 
expect to se6 in reality. Great massive 
ehns bent over and were mirrored in 
the placid water; the long sloping roof 
of the grey old mill, half embowered in 
trees and yines furnished a picture that 
could not but appeal to the artistic 
sense. The sweeping shore was dotted 
here and there with graceful white 
birches, and one could hardly suggest 
a single feature that could add to its 

I followed the Captain as he carried 
his bag of corn to the mill door, and 
realized more than ever Hawthorne's 
wonderful powers of word painting, as 
-I looked upon the grey, grizzled farmer 
of Blithedale. 

The Captain's grist soon filled the 
hopper, and as the mill gate was raised, 
the stones moaned and groaned their 
protest at their enforced servitude. 

This form of mechanical device is but 
one step removed from the primitive 
hand-mill. I think I quoted that pas- 
sage of Scripture relating to the two 
women grinding, when one was taken 
and the other left. This seemed to 
act as a letter of introduction to the old 
miller and at the same time furnish 
him with a text on which to hang his 
strange, fanciful ideas. I will not at- 
tempt to repeat all that he said, but the 
introduction was to say the least start- 
ling. He seated himself on a box near 
me and said, " I am God Almighty." 
I suppose I looked surprised-; at any 
rate theories of insanity were straying 
through my mind. He paused a mo- 
ment and then added, " At least an in- 
tegral part of Him. I have faith in 
Him, His goodness, His wisdom. His 
omnipotence, and He has faith in me or 

He would never have placed me here 
with a mind capable of thought and 
presented to my gaze the pages of His 
handiwork. That mill yonder is not 
simply a mass of cogs and wheels. It 
is a brain or a part of the brain of 
the man who built it. He could not 
fashion a mechanism like that, and 
leave it simply a mass of wood and 
iron. A certain something of himself 
was left behind. Intangible' perhaps, 
but so is the odor of the violet; still it 
exists, unseen by the microscope, un- 
demonstrated by chemical agents. I 
am a machine, made by Supreme 
hands, and I feel within me the breath 
that blew the fires when the ingot was 
cast. I see yonder flower by the path- 
way and recognize its beauty and 
purity. I see more. I see that those 
qualities are but an infinitesimal part 
of the Great Whole, the soul, the center 
of all beauty and purity. Why do I 
recognize this? Because He who 
formed me, left invisible strands, finer 
than the warp and woof of the spider's 
gossamer web, binding me to all those 
qualities and attributes that go to make 
a perfect whole. 

Within me are the possibilities of all 
thinsrs. I mav not be an artist, but I 
have somewhere in my brain substance, 
an 'art .cell, dormant now, but capable 
of development under proper condi- 
tions. I may not be a musician, but 
had I not the possibilities of one, I 
could not appreciate the song of bird 
or strain of Beethoven. So all the 
thought of the wide, wide world is 
mine; all that ever has been, all that 
ever will be is mine if I but grasp it. 
Plato and Aristotle have lived and they 
still live in me. I am a part of them, 
and a part of all that brain will pro- 
duce in the eons yet to come. Noth- 


ing is lost; the air is full of men's fore, when I heard John G. Saxe re- 
thoughts." peat those beautiful lines of his own, 

A jar and a creak of the mill stones then unpublished: 
told that the yellow grains of corn 

were no longer falling from the hopper, 
and the miller made haste to close the 
gate. I followed the Captain as he 
bore his bag of meal down to the boat 

Beneath the hill, you may see the 
Of wasting wood, and crumbling 

„, ® „ , , , 1 • ' The wheel is dripping and clattering 

ihere was no formal leave taking, ,.,, u. o o 


and each seemed busy with his own -r, , t ' ,i -n • n i t 

,, 1 , . .1 T T .p, T , . , -But Jerry the miller is dead and 

thoughts. As the dory drifted out into ,, 

the stream, the Captain lighted his pipe 

and turned for a final glance at the We seemed to sail through en- 
fast fading mill. chanted waters. Years before an exile 
" Well I'll be jiggered." from France, when his eyes beheld the 
This explosion in a certain way ap- same view, exclaimed, " God never 
peared to cover the repugnance of forty made a fairer spot than this pleasant 
years' Eocky Hill sermons to these valley." Pleasant Valley it still re- 
pantheistic ideas. mains. Perhaps the lone tree that now 
It is not easy to know just what sug- marks Goodale's Hill, might then have 
gests a thought at all times, or just had many fellows, but the same sun 
where it will lead. To me the picture kisses the river to blushes, when its 
and surroundings recalled a night in a long slant rays of summer afternoons 
little Vermont village, many years be- touch its surface now as then. 


To Madison Cawein. 

Bxj Franh Herhert Meloon. 

This was and is the highest creed of men 

To worship God as seen in brooks and trees, 

To lay song offerings on the summer breeze. 

And raise, Amphion-like, altars in each glen. 

The least blue flag that grows within the fen, 

The tiniest daisy on a thousand leas. 

The smallest leaflet the wood wanderer sees. 

Is worth more temples than the mind can ken. 

Who sings to-day the old, the Grecian creed, 
Whose scroll shall flourish though forgot of man? 
The priest of song whose singing is our need, 
Who plays the pipes of an ennobled Pan; 
Kentucky claims him who our steps doth lead 
Back to the gardens where the world began. 


By ^Yilliam Ruthven Flint. 

X the night-time, as I lay 
sleeping, there came and 
stood, by me One, who 
called me and bade me 
come forth. And as I 
arose and followed, he threw over me 
a mantle, and, of'a sudden, the mist of 
mortality, that which, as a veil, hides 
the immortal from the mortal, was dis- 
pelled and mine eyes were unsealed. 

I stood upon an exceeding great 
height, and it was dark night. Mine 
eyes could pierce the gloom no whither. 
But presently, before me, in the far- 
distant East, a faint glow began to 
spread along the horizon, and to rise 
up higher into the heavens. It seemed 
like the first glimmer of dawn upon 
the earth, but its light was more mystic 
and more lovely. 

Gleaming brighter and brighter with 
wonderful blending, yet contrasting, 
of tints, the glow became gradually a 
glorious light of such beauty and bril- 
liancy as blinded the feeble sight of the 
wondering watcher. 

At the same time was heard a sym- 
phony of sound such as mortal ears can 
never hear. At first low and soft, as 
though infinitely remote, it increased 
with the growing light. All the melo- 
dies of the universe seemed woven into 
one transcendant harmony. 

Fuller and sweeter it swelled, keep- 
ing pace with the matchless dawn, then 
burst forth in a magnificent climax. 
Up from the horizon sprang a sun in- 

comparable in majesty and glory. 
It was full day. 

Overwhelmed by the mystery of 
sight and sound, I fell in amaze. But 
the One, who stood by me, touched 
mine eyes and breathed upon mine ears 
and again I saw and heard. And I 
looked and behold there was spread out 
before me, beyond where the sunrise 
light still lingered upon the hilltops, 
as it were, a tapestry of bovmdless ex- 
tent, woven in a loom, surpassingly fine 
in texture and exceedingly fair in de- 
sign. Innumerable patterns were in- 
terwoven upon it, of grace and beauty 
unspeakable, and I marveled much at 
what it might mean. 

Then the One beside me spoke and 
said unto me: " Lo, there lieth before 
thee all the Infinity of the Past, not as 
it seemeth to men, but as God and the 
angels behold it. Every thread in the 
tapestry thou seest in a soul whose 
life is depicted therein. Some have 
been woven into the patterns and 
others into the groundwork, but none 
has a beginning, for, as God is immor- 
tal, so also is the soul of Man." 

And gazing upon the wonder and 
mystery of the sight, mine eyes were 
darkened by the brightness of its glory, 
and for a space I saw no more. But 
ever within mine ears was heard the 
matchless music though I could not 
tell whence it came. 

But again the One touched me and 
plucked me by the arm and said unto 



me, "Behold!" And once more i 
looked and saw, as it were, a mighty 
loom, ceaselessly weaving, and I was 
i]i the midst of it. But what it should 
mean I knew not. 

Then I turned and asked, " What 
meaneth this great loom with its cease- 
less weaving?" And the One heside 
me answered me, saying, " Behold, this 
is the loom of eternity. This it is 
which hath woven together the life- 
threads into the tapestry thou has seen. 
God is its Maker and Mover. His 
Hand it is which guides the shuttle to 
and fro. His Law and Ordinances are 
expressed therein, never changing and 
never failing. Thou art looking upon 
the Present. Every thread hath its ap- 
pointed place, whether in pattern or 
in background. None is ever broken; 
nor ever doth the loom cease its weav- 

Then I looked closer upon the tap- 
estry as it came forth from the loom, 
and I saw that Good and Evil, Joy and 
Sorrow were there. For some of the 
threads were coarser and rougher and 
some were finer and more delicate. 
Some patterns were woven of the fine 
threads and were marvels of graceful- 
ness. But other threads, of coarser 
texture, formed the shadows and 
groundwork. Yet neither was com- 
plete without the other, for where is 
sunshine, there too must be shadow. 
And so it was that the Tapestry 
seemed yet more beautiful because of 
the darkness which contrasted with the 

And as I pondered, methought the 
One beside me grasped me by the 
shoulder and turned me about and 
said unto me, " Opeij tliine eyes and 

look before thee." And suddenly, as 
I looked, I saw the loom no more, but 
again were we standing upon the 
height, with our faces turned towards 
the West, whither the sun was wending 
its ray. Then the heavens opened and 
from where we stood, through the 
gates, there seemed to pass countless 
strands, golden and silvery, shining 
bright in the light of the setting sun, 
and stretching on into infinity. 

And yet again, as I began to be 
amazed at this wondrous thing, the 
One beside me spoke and said, " Be not 
amazed, nor fear, for thou art behold- 
ing the Infinite Future. 

" As the life-threads thou hast seen 
have no beginning, so also have they 
no ending, but continue on forever. 
And as time goes on, the loom, in its 
incessant weaving, binds together 
these shining strands into the 
tapestry; but for what end thou canst 
not now understand. Yet know of a 
certainty, for this much it is given to 
thee to understand, that there is a 
purpose, and that one day thou shalt 
fully comprehend what now is all doubt 
and mystery." 

And on a sudden, as I stood gazing, 
it seemed to me to be sunset. The 
Ijright strands gathered themselves to- 
gether into clouds, illuminated by the 
golden light. And, while the glory of 
the setting sun gi-ew dim and dull, the 
varied tints merging into the sombre 
shades of twilight, the heavenly music 
died away fainter and fainter, until 
both light and sound had vanished, and 
again it was dark and voiceless night. 
And in the bright morning I awoke 
and knew that I had dreamed a dream. 


By C. C. Lord. 

The scene is soft. How gently flow 

The heart's emotions! 'Xeath the dome 
The Toiees of the day breathe low. 

And thought in silence dwells on home. 

Eternal, happy, fain to roam 
In fancy's blissful fields — and then 

The sad Avind sighs again. 

It is the waning time, the end 
Of summer vanishing in gloom, 

And all the soul's reactions blend 

To one presentment, fraught with doom, 
The world's procession to the tomb. 

In solemn pace behold — and then 
The bright land flames again. 

Faint nature's accents feebly rise 

And fall; its varied aspects shift. 
And flee; tis o'er; the richness dies. 

Through barren wastes the snowflakes drift, 

And life forsaken cons its shrift 
For woe and wretchedness — and then 

The sweet spring smiles again. 


By Alice B. Bicli. 

HEEE are a great many they had every care and attention. In 
people who do not begin an asylum they are at the mercy of 
to realize the sufferings of strangers; and often 3'oung girls, with- 
the insane. Many who out training, or inadequate, take charge 
are confined in sanatoriums and. asy- of them. Naturally there is great op- 
iums might, if properly cared for, be portunity for cruelty and injustice, 
restored to reason. Often they are en- A^liile in some institutions the general 
tirely separated from those who belong law may be kindness, in many, alas! it 
to them, and who, in any ordinary is force! 
physical illness, would see to it that On-e often sees in such places those 



who might he taken care of at home, 
hut Avho, on account of age, accom- 
panied hy some physical infirmity are 
" put away." 

They are to he pitied and with most 
of them the great fear is that they will 
have to end their days in an " insane 
asylum." Their one plea when 
friends visit them is to he taken home 
to die. 

What sadder sight than to see a 
hearse at the door of the asylum, wait- 
ing to convey the body, from which 
the poor, suffering spirit has been re- 
leased, to those who refused to care for 
it in life! 

Sometimes it happens that a patient 
recovers — the brain is clear again — and 
once more the attempt is made, when 
taken away, to resume the old duties 
and responsibilities. It is hard to 
realize what it means to " live down " 
the humiliation of having been in such 
a place. Such institutions should be 
under the direction of wise and humane 
people, and equipped in every way to 
battle mental disease. 

The tendency of the age is in this 
direction, but the good work proceeds 
too slowly. People who endow hos- 
pitals and visit them, " fight shy " of 
the asylum. The insane are under a 
" ban." Every little peculiarity is ex- 
aggerated. Often the idea seems to be 
with physicians and friends to keep 

them in confinement rather than to 
dismiss them. 

Some patients who realize this, lose 
hope and courage and, feeling that 
there is little or nothing to live for, at- 
tempt suicide, when perhaps in a nor- 
mal, cheerful atmosphere outside, sur- 
rounded by loved ones, a useful, happy 
life might be lived. The mother, sep- 
arated from her children, is one to be 
pitied, and particularly so under such 
conditions. The old and infirm 
try to be reconciled to their lot and 
struggle to say, " Thy will be done." 

As a rule the food is not suitable for 
invalids. The very best should be pro- 

There are sanatoriums and state in- 
stitutions that are conducted properly 
and where kind nurses and good physi- 
cians are employed, but there are others 
which need investigation and exposure. 

People are slow to act in such mat- 
ters as it is hard to get at the truth. 
The statements of nurses and physi- 
cians are taken too much for granted 
by friends against the patients. 

In closing we must do credit to those 
who are trying to help those afflicted 

Infinite patience and kindness is re- 
quired and often under very trying 
conditions. The physicians and nurses 
Avho are really endeavoring to help de- 
serve a great deal of praise. 


Ellery A. Hibbard, born in St. Johnsbury, Vt., July 31, 1826, died in Laconia, 
July 24, 1903. 

Judge Hibbard was educated at the Derby (Vt) academy, and studied law 
with the late Nathan B. Felton and Charles R. Morrison of Haverhill, and Judge 
Henry F. French of Exeter. He was admitted to the bar in July, 1849, and com- 
menced practice at Plymouth, where he remained till January, 1853, when he 
located in Laconia, which was ever after his home, and where he obtained a 
measure of success, and a degree of eminence in his chosen profession surpassed 
"by none and equaled by few practitioners in Belknap county. 

In politics Judge Hibbard was always a decided Democrat, and was not only 
active in local affairs, but prominent in the councils of his party. He served 
Laconia as moderator from 1862 to 1873, inclusive, was assistant clerk and clerk 
of the house of representatives in the state legislature ; represented the town in 
the general court twice, and was a member of the house in the forty-second con- 
gress, at Washington. Judge Hibbard was a strong and convincing speaker, and 
did considerable service for the Democrats at various times as a campaign orator. 
In the great campaign of 1856, the hardest fought of all the national campaigns 
which the country has known so far as stump speaking is concerned, he was 
engaged with two other young lawyers of Laconia in the Pennsylvania campaign, 
that state then holding October elections, and the national result in November 
admittedly depending upon the outcome of the Pennsylvania state election, so 
that both parties turned their entire available speaking force into that state. The 
other two young lawyers alluded to were the afterwards noted Col. " Tom " Whip- 
ple and George W. Stevens, both of whom, as well as Judge Hibbard, afterwards 
became eminent at the bar, but died several years ago. 

In March, 1873, he was appointed an associate justice of the supreme court, 
holding the position until the partisan overturn of 1876, when with other mem- 
bers of the court he went out of ofifice, a change in the judiciary system having 
been effected. 

Judge Hibbard was always active in local enterprises and affairs of a public 
nature. He was a member of the original board of directors of the Laconia 
National bank, and retained his connection with that institution until failing 
health compelled his retirement. He was also a trustee of the Laconia Savings 
bank for many years ; served at different times on the board of education in the 
old town of Laconia, and held positions of trust and responsibility in numerous 


local enterprises. He was at his death the oldest member of the Belknap county- 
bar, and was for several years its president. 

He was married December 5, 1853, to Mary, daughter of Jacob Bell of Haver- 
hill, who survives, together with three children, Charles B., Laura B., and Jennie 
Olive, wife of O. T. Lougee, all of Laconia. 


Dr. Charles Hart Boynton, born in Meredith, September 20, 1826, died at Lis- 
bon, August 16, 1903. 

He was a son of Ebenezer and Betsey (Hart) Boynton, and passed the time 
largely, until eighteen years of age, at work upon his father's farm, enjoying lim- 
ited school privileges. In 1844 he purchased his " time " of his father for $100, and 
went to work to pay for the same and to earn means for obtaining an education. 
He subsequently attended the New Hampshire Conference seminary for two 
years, and afterwards took up the study of medicine with Dr. W. D. Buck of Man- 
chester. He attended lectures at Woodstock (Vt.) Medical college and at Berk- 
shire Medical college at Pittsfield, Mass., and was graduated at the latter institu- 
tion in the fall of 1S53. During the same winter he supplemented his education 
by attendance at the Harvard Medical school. 

He located in practice at Alexandria in 1854, but removed to Lisbon in 1858, 
where he ever after continued in practice, meeting with much success. He was a 
member of the White Mountain Medical society and for many years one of its 
officers, for two years being its president. He was a member of the New Hamp- 
shire Medical society, and was examining surgeon for invalid pensioners from 
1863 to 187 1. He belonged to Kane lodge. No. 64, F. and A. M., and Franklin 
chapter No. 5, both of Lisbon. He served seven consecutive years on the Lisbon 
board of education, took great interest in the public schools, and was one of the 
originators of the Lisbon library. In politics he was a Republican, and repre- 
sented Lisbon in the legislature in 1868 and 1869. At the time of his death he 
was president of the Lisbon Light and Power company, president of the Lisbon 
Building association, and a director in the Parker & Young company. He was 
also a trustee of the New Hampshire state hospital. 

He married, in October, 1854, Miss Mary H. Cummings of Lisbon, who died in 
July, 1876. He leaves one daughter, Alice, the wife of W. W. Oliver, who, with 
her husband, resided with him; also one brother, Dr. Oren H. Boynton of Lisbon. 


Rufus Cook, a pioneer business man of Minneapolis, Minn., a native of New 
Hampshire, died in that city July 12, 1903. 

Mr. Cook was a native of the town of Campton, a son of John and Hannah 
(Clark) Cook, born March 18, 1826. He was educated in the district school and 
New Hampton and Meriden academies. He afterward took up the study of civil 
engineering in Boston, where he was later for some time engaged in that profession 
till he removed to Minneapolis. Subsequently he came East, and was for a time 
located at Plymouth, where he surveyed the route of the Pemigewasset Valley 
railroad. Returning to Minneapolis, he continued in his profession as an engineer 


there until his death. He compiled and published the first map of Hennepin 
county, in 1858, and in recent years he has frequently been called upon to correct 
and relocate boundary lines in city and county. 

Mr. Cook was a member of the First Free Baptist church of Minneapolis, and 
for the past eighteen years had been a deacon of the church. He first married 
Miss Ann Dillingham of Brewster, Mass., who died in St. Paul in 1863. His 
second wife, Mary H. Flanders, died in West Newton, Mass., in 1S70. His third 
wife, who survives her husband, was Mary E. Bower of Boston, The children, all of 
whom are living, are Frederick D. Cook of Boston, Edward W. Cook of Milwaukee, 
Herbert Cook of West Newton, Mass., Rev. John Cook of New York city, and 
Mary E. and Anna DeWitt Cook of Minneapolis. 


Amos Fremont Rowell, editor and proprietor of the Lancaster Gazette, died at 
his home in that town August 3, 1903. 

He was a native of Lancaster, the eldest son of William L. and Martha (Legro) 
Rowell, born February i, 1857. He attended the public schools and Lancaster 
academy, and at twenty years of age commenced work in a printing office at 
St. Johnsbury, Vt. He was afterward for a time with \. W. Quimby in the 
Gazette office. Later, in company with Cyrus Bachelder, he bought the Cods 
Republican, conducting the same about six years. Thirteen years ago, in com- 
pany with Charles R. Bailey, he purchased the Gazette, which they conducted 
together for six years, after which, until his death, he was the sole proprietor. 

Mr. Rowell was prominent in Masonry, having received the Knights Templar 
and Scottish rite degrees, and was a devoted member of the fraternity. 


Morris Eben Kimball, born in Haverhill, October 24, 1843, ^^^^ in that tovn 
July 13, 1903. 

He was one of five sons of Charles and Hannah Kimball, was educated in the 
town schools, and commenced active life as a clerk in a country store at North 
Haverhill, of which he subsequently became the proprietor and conducted with 
success till his death. He was a life-long Republican, and held the position of 
postmaster for more than twenty years. He was also a member of the legislature 
in 1899. He leaves a wife (formerly Miss Gazilda Moran), and three children, a 
daughter and two sons, the eldest of the latter, Louis, being a graduate of Dart- 
mouth college of the class of 1902. 


Hon. Charles W. Moore, a native of New Hampshire, born in Canterbury in 
1845, *^i^d ^^ Detroit, Mich., where he had resided since 1S80, August 15, 1903. 

He was educated in the Concord schools, and in youth went to New York city, 
where he soon engaged in the insurance business. He was afterward located in 
Concord, but in March, 1880, went to Detroit as the Michigan manager of the New 
York Life Insurance company, in which capacity he was eminently successful. He 
also took an active interest in politics as a Republican, serving with distinction 


in both branches of the Michigan legislature. He was also for a time comptroller 
of the city of Detroit. 


John Humphrey, a native of Lyndon, Vt., born October 12, 1834, died in 
Keene, where he had long been engaged in business, August 24, 1903. 

He was manager of the Humphrey Machine company of Keene, a member of 
the American Society of Mechanical Engineers, and was well known throughout 
New England as the inventor of water-wheels and wood and iron working machin- 
ery. Among other things devised and improved by him is a lumberman's log 
caliper for computing the contents in logs in cord or board measure. 


Dr. Charles F. Hildreth, born in Boston, Mass., December 12, 1831, died in 
Manchester, August 18, 1903. 

Dr. Hildreth was a graduate of the Harvard Medical school, and located in 
practice in Concord several years before the Civil War, when he was associated 
with the late Dr. Charles B. Gage, and was also physician at the state prison. In 
the early part of the war he was an assistant surgeon in the navy and later sur- 
geon of the Fortieth Massachusetts regiment. 

After the war he resumed practice in Concord, and later engaged in business 
as a druggist at Suncook, where he was also prominent in public affairs, serving 
two terms in the legislature, and also as treasurer of Merrimack county. He was 
also president of the China Savings bank at Suncook. Some years ago he 
removed to Connecticut, but of late had resided with his brother, Clifton B. Hil- 
dreth of Manchester. 


Hon. Jacob B. Whittemore of Hillsborough died at the state hospital in Con- 
cord, August 18, 1903, aged fifty-one years. 

He was a native and life-long resident of Hillsborough, educated at Phillips 
Exeter academy, and prominent in public affairs, having served as superintendent 
of schools and a member of the school board for several years, representing the 
town in the legislature of 1882, and being a member of the senate in 1891. He 
served as a post-office inspector under the first administration of President Cleve- 
land, and as a Chinese inspector under the second, and at the time of his death 
was deputy collector of customs at West Stewartstown. 

He was a Free Mason, and a member of Mt. Horeb commandery, K. T., of 

The Granite Monthly. 

V(.L. xxx\ 

OCTOBER, 1903. 

Xo. 4. 

"■Bald Gates iiiountaiti, near the toivii^s southeastern boiiiidary.'" 


By Mabel M'ood Johnso7i. 

HE hills, the hills are 
home" is as true to- 
day as it ever has 
been. The lover of 
nature is not always 
content in the valley. New treasures 
are being discovered in our hilltop 

The early settlers cleared the' crests 
and crowning slopes of the hills and 
their bridle paths climbed ever to 
the summit. These pioneers found 
the same exhilarating tonic in this 
breadth of breathing room and free- 
dom of outlook which repays the 
climber of to-day. 

Among the fairest of New Hamp- 

shire hill towns is Acworth. Eeave 
the Connecticut river at Charlestown 
and climb eastward seven miles ; on 
the southern slope of a hill, nearly 
fourteen hundred feet above sea level, 
is the ideal country village, the heart 
of Acworth town. 

At a common center is the meeting 
of the roads, six streets lined wnth 
homes of white or of brick, and a 
spacious common stretching between. 
At the crest of the common, as 
though guarding the homes, is the 
church, flanked by the town house 
and the schoolhouse, the three bul- 
warks of our national life. Which- 
ever way the traveler approaches, 


'■'With vistas of gardens mid orchards beyond.'''' 

like a beacon towers the church, a 
landmark for miles around. The vil- 
lage breathes hospitality : the broad 
yards stretching back from the shaded 
streets, with vistas of garden and 
orchards beyond ; the houses of col- 
onial architecture, with their wide 
doors and paneled side-lights ; the 
arching open sheds with glimpses of 
a year's supply of wood, bespeaking 
good cheer and defiance to winter's 
cold ; all have the general air of 
thrift and plentj^ which makes the 
stranger welcome. 

Beyond the village stretch the farm 
lands, on the hills and in the valleys. 
Here and there on the hillsides tower 
stately elms, now singly, now in 
pairs, their presence revealing where 
the farm homes are located. Every 
farm has its "sugar house" and 
" sugar orchard " for now, as in years 
past, Acworth is the banner maple 
sugar town of the state. To the west 

of the village is Derry Hill, the fertile 
farming section of the town. From 
here the view is uninterrupted, from 
Ascutney on the north and the 
Monadnock on the south, almost 
around the circle ; while across the 
Connecticut valley, range upon range 
of Green mountains are silhouetted 
against the afternoon sky. To the 
east is Grout hill, and bald Gates 
mountain near the town's south- 
eastern boundary. Over the crest of 
the village lies " Black North," rich 
in beauties of woodland and stretches 
of distant mountains separated by 
farm-dotted valleys. Between Perry's 
mountain at the west and Coffin hill 
at the east are seemingly unexplored 
tracts, where the deer might graze 
and the bear go untracked, but those 
days are of the past. 

Cold pond, at the northeastern 
corner of the town, has that which 
many larger lakes have lost, shores 


thickly wooded down to the water's 
edge. A few hours spent here will 
store the mind with fair pictures, 
though you may go home without 
a full fish basket. Winding its way 
from Cold pond is Cold river, a mad 
torrent at snow melting, a stony bed 
in midsummer. Follow the stream, 
as it rushes here and spreads leisurely 
there, by the winding river road, 
through the villages of East and 
South Acworth, by Beryl mountain 
with its world famous crystals, and 
5'ou are in easy access, though twelve 
miles distant, to Bellows Falls and 
the Connecticut. 

In 1766 was signed the charter 
granting the land under the name of 
Acworth. In 1767 the first clearing 
was made on the thickly wooded hill- 
sides. Slowly the settlers came, but 
came to stay, and by 1800 the hills 

were dotted with comfortable homes 
surrounded by tilled fields, which 
had but lately been wrested from the 
rugged wilds. 

Acworth had many other indus- 
tries than farming in those days. 
The people not only raised food for 
themselves and their cattle, but they 
manufactured their own clothing as 
well. Acworth linen was celebrated 
for its fineness. Linen, tow, and 
woolen goods were exported, also 
horse rakes, spinning wheels, silk 
hats, stoves, plows, nails, clothes- 
pins, barrels, shoe-pegs, boots and 
shoes. On every stream was a little 
mill. The men w^ere mechanics as 
well as farmers, and the women were 
manufacturers too, for the spinning 
wheel, flax wheel, and loom were in 
every home. In the wnnter, produce 
was carried to market on sleds, and 

J"*' • -A>^*. 


■»■' ' JT'o^ ' 

'Cold river, a mad torrent at snow melting, a sto7iy bed in midsnininer.'^ 


"A s/xiri'ons cointnon stretching bei^veeti.^' 

the merchants used to make more 
than one journey to Boston with 
loaded sledges, returning equally 

As early as 1814, there is a record 
of emigration from Acworth to Ver- 
mont, New York, and Ohio, and 
from that time to the present the 
tide has been away from the hills to 
the larger towns and cities and the 
waiting West. Thus, following close 
upon the wave of immigration that 
settled the town, came the long ebb 
and flow of emigration, sapping the 
town's young life, but not exhausting 
its reserve strength. 

With the dawning twentieth cen- 
tury comes a renewed appreciation of 
the charm of country life and the 
satisfaction that Nature alone can 
give. Every summer finds new 
homes made, which are regretfully 
left when summer is over. But true 
knowledge of country life is not 
gained by living there only one 
season. The hill-town in winter is 
as beautiful as under June skies, 
although only the lover of the coun- 
try knows this. The isolation, in 
spite of daily mails and telephones, 
develops the best in the community. 
Each season has a charm of its own. 

'^ Cold pO)id— its shores thickly wooded davit to the ivater's edge.'' 



The hurrying springtime and the 
lingering autumn will not woo many 
times in vain. Play-time here has 
a zest not felt elsewhere. The husk- 
ings, lyceums, sociables, "bees," 
sleighing parties, and picnics are 
genuine holidays, although not down 
on the calendar. 

lyove of the country is inborn. 
Those whose ancestors were reared 

on the granite hills will not be satis- 
fied to live their lives long without 
some taste of the life of the country 
town. Back to New Hampshire's 
hills are coming the children and 
grandchildren of her sons and daugh- 
ters, who through the years have 
kept warm the love of their old hill- 
top homes. 

Mrs, G. Waldo Browne. 


Bv Nellie M. Browne. 

Written for Old Home Day and read by the author at the observance in Nottingham, on August in. 
This poem was a pleasing feature of the occasion. Mrs. Browne, whose readings have been widely 
enjoyed, belongs to an old and respected family of Massachusetts, but has her home in Manchester 
this state, being the wife of G. Waldo Browne, the author. 

In the grand state of New Hampshire, 

With her wealth of vine-clad hills ; 
Where the breezes whisper softly 

To the murmur of the rills, 


Stands this old, historic township, 
Dear to many hearts to-day. 

Who have wandered far from Homeland, 
But are welcomed back alway. 

You have sent the tidings outward, 
With your loving words of cheer : 

" Come, you absent sons and daughters, 
Come and tarr}' with us here, 

While we talk of old-time memories, 
And we listen to the songs, 

That now help to swell the chorus. 
As in days gone by so long." 

Are we thinking of the changes 
That anon have taken place, 

As we look with hope expectant 
Into each and every face ? 

We have all grown old together — 
Time has waited not for one ! 

But our hearts are just as buoyant 
As in days when we were young. 

Are there those oppressed and weary 
Who would la}^ life's cares away ? 

Let them work their unknown missions 
With a cheerful heart each day. 

Let us say a word of comfort, — 

Wait and hope, the time draws near. 

When we all shall reap the harvest 
For what we have suffered here. 

Every morn new strength is given — 
What a hope to calm our fears ; 

Let us strive and help some other 
To roll back the burdened years. 

Life is like a path that' s winding 
Through the future's misty day ; — 

Noble thoughts and deeds remembered 
Are our milestones .by the way. 

Time may change and dear ones leave us, 
But He still this message sends : 

" Fear not ; Heaven is nearer to us 
Than what we may think, dear friends.' 


By Laura Garland Carr. 

While autumn's days were long and bright, 
With fields and forests at their best, 

We climbed Old Catamount's fair height 
To see the world from its broad crest. 

Who said " a long and tedious climb ? " 
What, with that wealth of sun and shade ! 

With light clouds floating all the time. 
In changing lights, o'er hill and glade ! 

With dancing brooks and laughing falls 
And rocks that showed enticing lines ! 

With blackberry bushes by the walls 
Pushing ripe clusters through the vines ! 

With those delightful rests and talks, 

Wherever fanc}' chose a place, 
When classics, mushrooms, bugs, and stocks 

Were handled with such learned grace ! 

Yet, had it been a longer way 

More wearying in its upward trend ; 

Would we have shunned its toils that daj- 
And lost the grandeur at the end ? 

O Catamount ! Enchanted ground 1 
Old as the world yet always new ! 

What pleasure on thy rocks we found ! 
What inspiration in thy view: ! 

Thy name, wherever heard, recalls 
Two perfect days of pure delight ; 

Thy pictures, hung on memorj^'s walls, 
Will make all coming days more bright. 

How is it with you in the snow ? 

How when the storm is at its height ? 
We long thy loneliness to know — 

The solemn stillness of thy night. 

Again and yet again we hope — 
Like ancient pilgrims to a shrine. 

To mount thy peaceful, grassy slope 
And feel the thrill from thy air wine. 

Gen. Henry Dearborn, VI. D. 
/;/ iiiilitary dress during; the War of 1S12. 



(Made et Free}itaso}i under niarehiitg orders^) 

By Gilbert Patten Brown . 
Author of " The Massacre of York," " Memories of Martinique," " The Tory's Daughter," etc. 

N the old and renowned 
state of New Hampshire 
are many interesting 
spots to the curious stu- 
dent of American histo- 
ry. The ancient town of Hampton is 
rural and furnishes much material for 
the ardent historian. Among its early 
settlers was the distinguished name 
of Dearborn. Godfrey Dearborn was 
born in Exeter, in the county of Do- 

ver, in England, and when arriving 
in America settled in Exeter. He 
was one of the thirty-five men to 
sign the constitution for the govern- 
ment of Exeter, in 1739. In 1749 he 
moved to Hampton, where he died 
February 4, 1786. From that sturdy 
oak of New England life the subject of 
this memoir descended. He is none 
other than Henry Dearborn, born at 
Hampton, February 23, 1751, son of 



Simon and Sarah (Marston) Dear- 

The early education of Henry Dear- 
born was obtained at the district 
school of his native town, and his 
course in medicine was under the 
tuition of Dr. Hall Jackson, of Ports- 
mouth. In 1772 Dr. Dearborn settled 
as a phj'sician at Nottingham Square, 
and had a good practice at the break- 
ing out of the American Revolution. 
In Portsmouth was old "St. John's 
Lodge Xo. I " of Free Masons. The 
leading men of the town were mem- 
bers of that sturdy body, and the 
3^oung physician of rural Nottingham 
wished to learn the mysteries of Free- 
masonry. He received the first and 
second degrees March 3, 1774 (in 
company with Maj. Andrew McClary, 
who was killed by a cannon ball at 
Bunker Hill). Dr. Dearborn did not 
receive the third, or Master Mason's, 
degree until April 6, 1777. His 
diploma is the property of " St. John's 
Lodge No. I." It reads : 

Our Honorable Brother 

Henry Dearborn, was made a Mason in the 
.first and second degree the 3d day of March 
5774, and was raised to the degree of Master 
April 6, 5777 in St John's lodge of Portsmouth 
as per records; Clement Storer Master Edw'd 
St Leo Livermore, St Warden, Abel Harris Ju 
Warden, John P Pason Secretary. 

This rare and unique document was 
found in 1901 among some rubbish 
at an auction sale at Saco, Maine. 
Chandler M. Hayford, Esq., the 
present secretary, has it in his pos- 
session ; of it he is justly proud. 

Soon after settling in Nottingham, 
and anticipating trouble with the 
mother country, Dr. Dearborn organ- 
ized a military company and was 
elected its captain. When the news 
of Concord and Lexington reached 
the town, he, with Joseph Cilley and 

Thomas Bartlett, reorganized the lit- 
tle command, and at the head of sixty 
men marched Captain Dearborn on 
the morning of April 20, 1775, to- 
wards Cambridge, Mass. In less than 
twenty-four hours those farmer volun- 
teers marched a distance of fifty- five 
miles. After remaining there several 
days they returned home. A regi- 
ment was at once organized, com- 
manded b)^ Col. John Stark, of Lon- 
donderry, and Dr. Dearborn was on 
April 23, 1775, commissioned a cap- 
tain. His company arrived at Med- 
ford, Mass., May 15, and in a few 
days was engaged in a skirmish on 
Hog island. He had been sent b}' 
the colonel to prevent the stock from 
being carried away by the British, 
and a few days later took part in an 
engagement with an armed vessel, 
near Winnesimet ferry. The follow- 
ing letter by Colonel Stark is self- 
explanatory : 

Winter Scene on Nottingham Square. 

Behind the barn, tnarkcd, was located the ho7ise in 
which General Dearborn lived. The field below 
still called ike '■^Dearborn field.''^ 

1 84 


Section of Highway leading from Nottingham to Epping. 

Medford, June 8, 1775. 
Captain Henry Dearborn, — You are required 
to go with one seargent and twenty men to re- 
lieve the guards at Winter Hill and Tempi's to- 
morrow morning at nine o'clock, and there to 
take their places and orders, but first to parade 
before New Hampshire Chambers (Billing's 

John Stark, Col. 

Captain Dearborn endorsed the or- 
der by writing on the back : ' ' First 
time I ever mounted guard." 

Early on the 17th of June Colonel 
Stark's regiment marched to Bunker 
Hill. Captain Dearborn's company 
was the flank guard of the regiment. 
In the thickest of the fray was Dear- 
born and his men. He took with him 
his small medicine case, which he 
lashed together with his sword to his 
coat, and did one man's part in using 
the old king's arm upon the forces of 
England. In the following Septem- 
ber he volunteered and joined the 
expedition of Gen. Benedict Arnold 
through the wilderness to Quebec, 
where on December 31, 1775, he was 

taken prisoner, and the commanding 
officer, Gen. Richard Montgomery, 
was killed. He was not exchanged 
until March 10, 1777, and nine days 
later he was made major Third N. H. 
regiment, to rank from November 8, 
1776. Col. Alexander Scammel (an- 
other member of " St. John's Lodge, 
No. i") commanded that regiment 
of veterans. At Stillwater he fought 
bravely, and on September 19, 1777, 
was commissioned a lieutenant-colo- 
nel and transferred to the First regi- 
ment of New Hampshire continental 
troops, commanded by Col. Joseph 
Cilley (who had on June 15, 1775, 
been made a Mason in St. John's 
Dodge, No. I, "gratis," "for his 
good service in the defence of his 
country"). At the battle of Mon- 
mouth the First N. H. regiment 
fought bravely, and both Colonels 
Ciley and Dearborn " attracted par- 
ticularly the attention of the com- 


i8 = 

It was after General Lee's blunder, 
that Washington ordered Colonel Cil- 
ley's regiment to attack a body of the 
British crack troops. As they passed 
through an orchard Lieutenant-Colo- 
nel Dearborn plaj'ed a most daring 
and important feat. After the British 
had been beaten off, Colonel Cille)^ 
dispatched his lieutenant-colonel to 
General Washington to ask what fur- 
ther service was required before tak- 
ing refreshments. The little doctor- 
soldier's face was black from smoke 
of battle. He saluted the general, 
who cried out, "What troops are 
those?" Dearborn replied: "Full- 
blooded Yankees from New Hamp- 
shire, sir." " Your men, sir, have 
done gallant service, fall back and 
refresh yourselves," quickly replied 
Washington. The following day Gen- 
eral Washington in his general orders 
showed the highest commendation on 
the exploit of that regiment. Here 
General Washington learns that Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Dearborn is a member 

of the Masonic institution and is pop- 
ular in the cloth of the craft. 

In 1779 he accompanied Maj.-Gen. 
John Sullivan on his noted expedition 
against the Tories and Indians, and 
took an active part in the action of 
August 29 at Newburn. In 1781 he 
was appointed deputy quartermaster- 
general, with the rank of colonel, and 
served with General Washington's 
army in Virginia. He could be trusted 
at all times. He served until March 
5, 1782, when he retired to private 
life. In 1784 he moved from New 
Hampshire to Kennebec, in the dis- 
trict of Maine. In 1787 he was 
elected brigadier-general of militia, 
and later, was appointed a major- 
general. In 1790 Washington ap- 
pointed him marshal for the district 
of Maine. He was twice elected a 
representative from rural Kennebec 
county to congress. On March 5, 
1 80 1, he was appointed by President 
Jefferson secretary of war, which office 
he held with credit to himself until 

View on the Common at Nottingham Square — Homes of Judge Bartlett and Thomas Fernald. 

1 86 


March 7, 1809, when he resigned and 
was appointed collector for the port 
of Boston. On January 27, 1812, he 
was appointed and commissioned as 
senior major-general in the United 
States army. 

His military bearing was of the 
best ; he was popular with his men 
and loved by his fellow oi^cers. The 
one failure of General William Hull 
at Detroit had a deep effect upon 
the plans of General Dearborn. 
Commodore Isaac Chauncey and 
General Morgan lycwis (both Ma- 
sons) worked in perfect harmony with 
General Dearborn in all bis plans. 
On the force march to "Four Mile 
Creek," the hospital surgeon of the 
army, Dr. James Mann, said to Gen- 
eral Dearborn : " I apprehend you do 
not intend to embark with the army ? " 
The general replied: "I apprehend 
nothing, sir, I go into battle or perish 
in the attempt." The little engage- 
ments of the War of 18 12 were tame 
to him compared with some of the 
hard battles of the Revolution he had 
participated in. He was honorably 
discharged from the army June 15, 
18 15. In 1822 he was appointed 
minister plenipotentiary to Portugal, 
and after two years returned to Amer- 
ica at his own request. The hard 
service in the two wars of his country 
had broken down his health. 

He was a member of that distin- 
guished American body, "The So- 
ciety of the Cincinnati," and became 
one of its general officers. Never was 
any of his undertakings a failure. 

The sturdy Anglo-Saxon ancestry of 
General Dearborn was plainly seen in 

He first married, 1771, Mary Bart- 
lett ; second, 1780, Dorcas (Osgood ) 
Marble; third, 1813, Sarah Bowdoin. 
His son, Henry Alexander Scammel 
Dearborn, was born March 3, 1783, 
and died July 29, 1851. 

Gen. Henry Dearborn possessed 
that rare jewel of mental aristocracy 
which has been common in almost 
every age and country. Dr. Dear- 
born would have been a valuable man 
in the medical department of the con- 
tinental armj-, but knew where he 
would do the best service to human 
kind. The careful and curious stu- 
dent of the War of 18 12 finds no offi- 
cer of more value to the American 
cause than Maj.-Gen. Henry Dear- 
born. He died at Roxbury, Mass., 
June 6, 1829, and was buried at 
Mount Auburn cemetery with full 
civil, military, and Masonic honors, 
where a suitable stone, bearing a 
touching epitaph, marks his tomb. 
His achievements were vast for Amer- 
ican liberty, and we 'find he has not 
proper space on history's page. The 
writer is a young man, and considers 
it his duty to contribute to literature 
this article, that generations yet un- 
born may read of the life of the phy- 
sician-general of Americas two wars 
with England. Masonic writers have 
failed to record his name among those 
of the craft who served their countr}^ 
in the war against British despot- 

By Mrs. O. S. Bakeiel. 

Transcendently beautiful the orb of night, 
The pale, soft light of the moon ; 

Trausversing through the heavens above, 
And passing away too soon. 

Not the strength of power the sun doth give, 

As he rides with triumph by ; 
Brilliantly shedding his rays of light 

And heat, from a splendid sky. 

But a softer light, as a babe asleep, 

So innocent, pure, and sweet. 
That we fain would change the lovely light. 

For the luminous one replete. 


By Sumner F. Clafiin. 

Among the sun-kissed summits. 

Of the mountains that I love, 

The vandal's hand its dastard work has done. 

The same are all the sky tints, 

In cloud-landj'ust above. 

But the forests as they used to be are gone ! 

Eike a moth-eaten garment 

Seem the breasts that once were green, 

Those broad shoulders that pressed against the sky 

Where axe and fire has bared them 

Their nakedness is seen ! 

In brokenness and ashes there they lie I 

Oh ! Years of rain aiid sunshine. 

Come, hide these ghastl)' stones 

Beneath another covering of green. 

The poet, yea, and nature 

And all creation groans 

Until Time's softer hand shall intervene. 

G.M.— 14 


By Joseph B. Walker. 

IMONG the papers of 
Judge Timothy Walker 
of Concord (b. i737,.d. 
1822) is one of ancient 
foolscap size, somewhat 
faded and time worn, endorsed in his 
handwriting, "Covenant, 1774." 
This ' ' covenant, ' ' which is all printed 
from old-fashioned English type, ex- 
cept a short blank space in which is 
written the word "Concord," occu- 
pies about two thirds of the first page. 
Upon the remainder of this and upon 
the second, are the autographs of 
seventy-two substantial citizens of 
Concord, and of Hannah Osgood, 
better known as "Mother Osgood," 
the landlady of Concord's popular 
inn^ during the Revolutionary pe- 
riod. Fifty-two of these same per- 
sons, two years later, signed the As- 
sociation Test, and thereby exposed 
their estates to confiscation and their 
necks to the halter. 

What was the origin and purpose 
of this ancient document, now awak- 
ened from a sleep of three generations 
and introducing us to these Concord 
worthies of 1774? It bears no inter- 
nal date. Who sent it for adoption 
to Concord ? Were its provisions 
also adopted by the citizens of other 
New Hampshire towns ? W^hat, in 
short, was its '' raison d'etre''} To 
such questions its unexpected appear- 
ance gives rise. A careful perusal of 

'This stood near the south corner of Main and 
Depot streets. 

its contents, as here presented in fac- 
simile, will answer them in part : 

We the Subscribers, Inhabitants of the Town 
of Concord, having taken into our serious Con- 
sideration, the precarious State of the IvIBER- 
TIES of NORTH-AMERICA, and more espe- 
cially the present distressed Condition of our 
Sister Colony of Massachusetts-Bay, embar- 
rassed as it is by several Acts of the British Par- 
liament, tending to the entire Subversion of 
their natural and Charter Rights ; among which 
is the Act for blocking tip the Harbour of 
BOSTON : And being fully sensible of our in- 
dispensible Duty to lay hold on every Means in 
our Power to preserve and recover the much 
injured Constitution of our Country ; and con- 
scious at the same Time of no Alternative be- 
tween the Horrors of Slavery, or the Carnage 
and Desolation of a civil War, but a Suspen- 
sion of all commercial Intercourse with the 
Island of Great-Britain, DO, in the Presence of 
GOD, solemnly and in good Faith, covenant • 
and engage with each other. 

1. That from henceforth we will suspend all 
commercial Intercourse with the said Island of 
Great-Britain, until the Parliament shall cease 
to enact Laws imposing Taxes upon the Colo- 
nies, without their Consent, or until the pre- 
tended Right of Taxing is dropped. And 

2. That there may be less Temptation to 
others to continue in the said now dangerous 
Commerce ; and in order to promote Industry, 
Oeconomy, Arts and Manufactures among our- 
selves, which are of the last Importance to the 
Welfare and Well-being of a Community ; we 
do, ill like Manner, solemnly covenant, that we 
will not buy, purchase or consume, or suffer 
any Person, by, for, or under us, to purchase, 
nor will we use in our Families in any Manner 
whatever, any Goods, Wares or Merchandise 
which shall arrive in America from Great-Bri- 
tain aforesaid, from and after the last Day of 
August next ensuing (except only such Articles 
as shall be judged absolutely necessary by the 
Majority of vSigners hereof) — and as much as in 
us lies, to prevent our being interrupted and 
defeated in this only peaceable Measure en- 
tered into for the Recovery and Preservation of 
our Rights, and the Rights of our Brethren in 



our Sister Colonies, We agree to break off all 
Trade and Commerce, with all Persons, who 
prefering: their private Interest to the Salvation 
of their now almost perishing Country, who 
shall still continue to import Goods from Great- 
Britain, or shall purchase of those who import 
after the said last Day of August, until the 
aforesaid pretended Right of Taxing the Colo- 
nies shall be given up or dropped. I * "'ij 

3. As a Refusal to come into any Agreement 
which promises Deliverance of our Country 
from the Calamities it now feels, and which, 
like a Torrent, are rushing upon it with in- 
creasing Violence, must, in our Opinion, evi- 
dence a Disposition enimical to, or criminally 
negligent of the common Safety : — It is agreed, 
that all such ought to be considered, and shall 
by us be esteemed, as Encouragers of contuma- 
cious Importers. 

Lastly, We hereby further engage, that we 
will use every Method in our Power, to encour- 
age and promote the Production of Manufac- 
tures among ourselves, that this Covenant and 
Engagement may be as little detrimental to 
ourselves and Fellow Countrymen as possible. 

Philip Eastman 
Peter Green, Jr. 
Reuben Abbott 
Jabez Abbot 
John Chase 
Benjamin Sweat 
Ephraim Farnum.Junr. 
Benjamin Fifield 
Henry Lovjoy 
Jacob Shute 
Edward Abbott 

George Abbott 
Jesse Abbot 
Jeremiah Wheeler 
Joshua Abbot 

Ezekiel Dimond 

Isak Kimball 

Ezra Carter 

Abiel Chandler 

John Blanchard 

Caleb Buswell 

Peter Chandler 

Abiel Blanchard 

Jonathan Bradle3' 

Nathl. Rolfe 

Timothy Bradley 

Cornelius Johnson 

Daniel Gale 

Thos. Stickney 

Daniel Abbot 

Nathl. West 

Daniel Carter 

Amos Abbot 

Daniel Hall 

Levi Ross 

Henry Berk 

Nathl. Abbott 

Moses Abbott 
Reuben Kimball 
Lemuel Tucker 
Nathan Abbot 
Chandler Lovejoy 
William Coffin 
Jona. Walker 
John Farnum 
David Young 
Stephen Kimball 
Ebenr. West 
Moses Eastman, jun. 
Hannah Osgood 
Timo. Walker 
Richard Hastine 
Timo. Walker, Jr. 
John Kimball 
Benja. Emery 
Aaron Stevens. 
Joseph Hall, Jnr. 
Philip Carigain 
Jonathan Stickney 
David Hall 
Stephen Abbot 
Benjamin Farnum 
Nathl. Clement 
James Walker 
Joseph Farnum 
Jonathan Eliot 
Jacob Carter 
Enoch Coffin 
Hezekiah Fellows 
Abner Flanders 
Ebenezer Virgin 
Solomon Gage 
Jacob Dimond 

For further responses, one must re- 
vert to the environment of this im- 
portant paper, and the condition of 
public affairs in the American colo- 
nies at that time. Soon after the 
Treaty of Paris (1763), whereby 
France relinquished all rule in North 
America, the selfishness of the gov- 
ernmental policy of England with 
respect to her American colonies be- 
came more and more pronounced. It 
was manifest that she meant to hold 
them not only as an enlargement of 
her domain, enhancing her conse- 
quence as a nation, but as contribu- 
tors to her material welfare, by afford- 
ing places to her need}- dependents, 
markets for her manufactures and 
merchandise, freights for her vessels, 
and aids to her exchequer, by an ar- 
bitrary taxation of their people with- 
out their consent. 

This policy was made notably pat- 
ent as early as March 22, 1765, by 
the enactment of the Statnp Act, 
which embodied the principle of her 
right to tax the people of her colo- 
nies while denying them representa- 
tion in the body bj' which it was 

This act, however, proved prema- 
ture and excited such widespread 
dissatisfaction and opposition to its 
enforcement that it was repealed at 
the end of four months and a half 
after it had taken effect (March 18, 
1766), much to the disgust of the 
king and of his advisers. Yet, while 
its repeal caused great joy throughout 
the colonies, it did not change his 
purpose. He simply acquiesced and 
waited ; but briefly for, the very 
next year, he converted to exasper- 
ation the good feeling thus produced 
by securing the enactment of a law 
for levying import duties on tea, glass, 



'E the Siibfcribers, Inhabitant? of the Town of 
having taken into our ferious Conlideration, the precarious State of the 
LIBERTIES of NORTH-AMERICA, and more efpecially the prefent diftreffci 
Condition of our Sifter Colony of the Maffachufetts-Bay, embarraired as it is by 
fcveral Afls of the Britifh Parliament, tending to the entire Subverfion of their na- 
tural and Charter Rights ; among which is the AB for blocking up the Harbour of 
BOSTON : And being fully fenfible of our indifpenfible Duty to lay hold oa 
every* Means in our Power to preferve and recover the much injured Conftitution 
of our Country ; and confcious at the fame Time of no Alternative between the 
Horrors of Slavery, or the Carnage and Pefolation of a civil War, but a Siifpenfion 
of all commercial Intercourle with the Ifl^nd of Great-Britain, DO, in the Prefencc 
of COD, folemnly and in good Faith^ cdveoant and engage with each othef.' '^ 

1. That from henceforth we will fufpend all commercial Intercourfe with ther 
faid Ifland of Great-Britain, until the Parliament (hall ceafe to ena<5l Laws impofing 
Taxes upon the Colonies, without their Confent, or until the pretended Right of 
Taxing is dropped. And 

2. That there may be lefs Temptation to others to continue in the faid now 
dangerous Commerce ;, and in order to promote Induftry, Oeconomy, Arts and 
Manufactures among ourfelves, which are of the laft Importance to the Welfare 
and Well-being of a Community ; we do, in like Manner, folemnly covenant, 
that we will not buy, purchafe or confume, or fuffer any Pcrfon, by, for, or under us, 
to purchafe, nor will we ufe in our Families in any Manner whatever, any Goods, 
Wares or Mcrchandife which fhall arrive in America from Great-Britain aforefaid, 
from and after the laft Day of Au-uft next enfuing ( except only fuch Articles as 
Ihall be judged abfolutely necediry by the Majority of the Signers hereof )— and 
as much as in us lies, to prevent our bci-»^interrupted and defeated in thi<^ only 
peaceable Meafgre entered into for the Recovery and Prefervation of our Right?, 
and the Rights of our Brethren in our Sifter Colonies, We agree to break off all 
Trade and Commerce, with all Pcrfons, who prefcring tlieir private Intereft tp 
the Salvation of their now almoft perifhing Country, who fhall ftill continue to im- 
port Goods from Great-Britain, or fhall purchafe of thofe who import after the 
faid laft Day of Auguft, until the aforefaid pretended Right of Taxing the Colo- 
nies fhall be given up or dropped. 

,-v .- 

3. As a Refufal to come into any Agreement which promifes Deliverance of our 
Country from the Calamities it now feels, and which, like a Torrent, are rufhing 
upon it with increafing Violence, ,iiuft, in our Opinion, evidence a Difpofition 
enimical to, or criminally negligent of the common Safety : — It is ao-reed, that all 
fuch ought to be confidered, and Aiall by vs be efteemed, as Encouragers of'con- 
tumacious Importers. 

Laftly, We hereby further cngag<!, that w.e will ofe every Method in our Powpr, 
to encourage and promote the Produftion of Manufaftures among ourfelves, that 
this Covenant and Engagement may be as little detrimental to ourfelves and Fellow 
Countrymen as poflible. 

'a n <-d 

'^'^^(^ ^£^^ St.u:^ 





paper, and painters' colors brought should be hereafter pursued, and that 

to American ports. the little capital of Massachusetts 

But, so general and intense was the should soon feel the weight of his 
dissatisfaction caused by this law right arm in vengeance, 
also, that the duty was soon removed In accordance with this purpose, 
from all of these articles except tea. on the thirty-first day of March, 1774, 
This was retained, accompanied by the act popularly known as the Bos- 
an assertion, as unwise as vain, that ton Port Bill received the royal ap- 
" England had the right to bind her proval, and a few weeks later, in 
colonies in all cases whatsoever." April, three others, known as the 
The king could not realize that his Regulation Acts, were enacted. 
American colonists were contending The Port Bill took effect on the 
for a principle, and not for the avoid- first day of the following June, caus- 
ance of the payment of a petty three ing the harbor of Boston to be block- 
pence on a pound of tea. aded and all passing between the 

Thus modified, the obnoxious law islands therein and Charlestown to be 
still failed to effect the object which suspended. As a consequence, busi- 
it was intended to secure. Ere long, ness came to a sudden standstill, 
the discontent, whose intensity had Stores and warehouses were closed 
been increasing for half a dozen years, and the employment of hundreds of 
culminated on the sixteenth day of its people, who lived by the work of 
December, 1773, in the pouring into their hands, ceased. Salem was made 
the waters of Boston harbor a whole the colonial capital, and Marblehead 
cargo of tea which had been sent to became a port of entry, 
that port for sale. Kindred action Two months later the Regulation 
followed in other towns, and only Acts, just mentioned, went into effect, 
fifteen days later, the people of "sweeping away the long cherished 
Charlestown, gathering their little charter of Massachusetts and precip- 
supplies of this article, bore them to itating the irreversible choice between 
the public square and there consigned submission and resistance." ^ 
them to the flames of a patriotic bon- The first of these provided " In to- 
fire, amid great rejoicings beneath tal violation of the charter [of Massa- 
which stern ideas were silently tak- chusetts] that the counsellors, who 
ing form in thoughtful minds. ^ In had been chosen hitherto by the leg- 
other places, non-consumption agree- islature, should be appointed by the 
ments were formed, as in Portsmouth, king, and hold at his pleasure. The 
where the women bound themselves superior judges were to hold at the 
to discontinue its use so long as the will of the king, and be dependent 
objectionable act remained in force.- upon him for their salaries ; and the 

While this destruction of tea in inferior judges were to be removable 

Boston was hailed with great satisfac- at the discretion of the royal gover- 

tion in all the colonies, it aroused the nor. The sheriffs were to be ap- 

ire of the king, who at once con- pointed and removed by the execu- 

cluded that no vacillating course tive ; and the juries were to be se- 

1 Hist. Charlestown, p. 293. 3 Windsor's Mem. Hist. Bostou, Vol. 3, p. 53. 

Annals of Portsmouth, p. 244. 



lected by the dependent sheriffs. 
Town meetings were to be abolished, 
except for the election of officers or 
by the special permission of the gov- 
ernor. This bill was passed by a 
vote of more than three to one." 

The second provided that " Magis- 
trates, revenue officers and soldiers, 
charged with capital offenses, could 
be tried in England or Nova Scotia. 
This bill passed by a vote of more 
than four to one." ^ 

The third made provision for the 
quartering of British troops upon the 

But all these vindictive laws failed 
to accomplish their expected pur- 
poses. Particularh^ applicable is this 
remark to the Boston Port Bill, the 
effect of which was twofold. While 
it caused great distress to large num- 
bers of the inhabitants of Boston, it 
also created stern indignation in all 
the colonies, frightened few persons, 
and created a universal sympathj' for 
those distressed thereby, which at 
once manifested itself by liberal con- 
tributions to the people of the be- 
leaguered town, which largely pre- 
vented the sufferings it was intended 
to produce. 

The correspondence accompanying 
the transportation and receipt of these 
contributions from June 28, 1774, to 
September 9, 1775, has been pub- 
lished by the Massachusetts Histori- 
cal society, and covers two hundred 
and seventy-eight pages of the fourth 
volume of the fourth series of its Col- 
lections. There was then little money 
in i\merica, and the contributions were 
mostly of provisions. These came 
from some one hundred and fifty dif- 
ferent places. As instances of these, 
there were sent : 

June 28, 1774, from Windham, Conn., a small 
flock of sheep. 

June 28, 1774, from Groton, 40 bushels of rye 
and Indian corn. 

July, 1774, from Cape Fear, North Carolina, a 
sloop load of provisions. 

Aug. 4, 1774, from Baltimore, Marj^and, 3,000 
bushels of Indian corn, 20 barrels of rye flour, 
2 barrels of pork and 20 barrels of bread, 

Aug. 30, 1774, from Northampton, Virginia, 
1,000 bushels of Indian corn. 

Sept. 22, 1774, from Old York, a quantity of 
wood, sheep and potatoes. 

Nov. 25, 1774, from Philadelphia, Penn., 5 
tons of rod iron, 400 barrels of flour and 200 bar- 
rels of ship stuff. 

Dec. 7, 1774, from New York, N. Y., iSo bar- 
rels of flour, 9 barrels of pork and 12 firkins of 

Dec. 15, 1774, from Middlesex county, New 
Jerse5', 2 barrels of rye flour, 8 barrels of wheat 
flour, 2 barrels of pork, 14 bu:^hels of Indian 
corn and 471 bushels of rye. 

March 15, 1775, from Montreal, Canada, 
£ 100-4 sh. 

Aug. 3, 1S74, from South Carolina, 100 casks 
of rice. 

Nine New Hampshire towns sent 
similar gifts." The following corre- 
spondence attended the sending and 
receipt of a part of that of Concord : 


Province of New Hampshire. 
Concord, Oct. 29th, 1774. 

The people of this Town have subscribed a 
considerable quantity of pease, for our suffer- 
ing brethren in the Town of Boston, part of 
which I now send you by the bearer ; the re- 
mainder I shall forward as soon as possible. 
You will excuse my giving you this trouble, 
not being particularly acquainted with any 
other Gentleman of the Committee. 

I remain yovir most obedient and verj- hum- 
ble servant, 

Timo. Walker, Jun. 
To Mr. Henry Hill. 

To this was returned the following 
response : 

Boston, Nov. 11, 1774. 
Dear Sir, 

This morning Mr. Samuel Ames delivered 
your agreeable favor of the 29th October, in- 
forming me that the people of the Town of 
Concord have generously subscribed a quantity 
of pease for their suffering brethren of this 

1 Windsor's Mem. Hist. Boston, Vol. 3, p. 53. 

'These towns were Concord, Chester, Candia, 
Durham, Newmarket, Londonderry, Temple, Ports- 
mouth, and Exeter. 



Town, part of which 5'ou have sent, and the re- 
ceipt of which I hereby acknowledge, and in 
behalf of the Town, desire you to accept our 
sincere thanks for this proof of your sympathy 
with us under our present trials, which, I as- 
sure you are very heavy, and under which we 
fear we should sink, were it not for the sup- 
port which, under Providence, we receive from 
our kind friends and brethren in this and the 
neighboring Colonies. 

I am, dear Sir, your obliged, humble servant, 

Henry Hill. 
To Mr. Timo Walker Jr. in Concord, Province 

of New Hampshire. 1 

In this vain attempt at intimida- 
tion, when conciliation was so greatly 
needed, King George III made the 
greatest mistake of his life. He took 
a fatal step w^hich he could not re- 
trace and began a contest sure to end 
by detaching from his kingdom all 
his American colonies from the St. 
Croix to Florida, and to give birth to 
a new^ nation destined, in a single 
century, to rival England in wealth 
and power, and, ere the close of a 
second, to surpass it in both. 

"While the sufferings caused by the 
Port Bill were restricted to the inhab- 
itants of Boston, the bill was regarded 
as a menace to all other colonial sea- 
ports, which might incur the royal 
displeasure, and as an assurance that 
His Majesty was ready to use so much 
of the military and naval power of his 
kingdom as might be found necessary 
to enforce his arbitrary demands. 

To the people of the colonies, who 
loved their fatherland and wanted 
peace and the development of their 
adopted country, this was a very un- 
welcome conclusion. They therefore 
sought some peaceable means by 
which their disagreements with their 
home government tnight be removed 
and a rupture of the bond which had 
long bound them t-o their mother 
country be avoided. In addition to the 

1 Mass. Hist. Collections, Series 4, Vol. 4, p. 429- 

letters, petitions, and remonstrances 
before used, there was suggested : 

I. The cultivation of a better ac- 
quaintance of the people of the differ- 
ent colonies with one another, and a 
common agreement as to their gen- 
eral interests. The attainment of 
these ends was sought through colo- 
nial, county, and town Committees of 
Correspondence, by which the opin- 
ions and wants of each section of 
country might be made known to the 
others. To Dr. Jonathan Mayhew 
and to Samuel Adams, both of Bos- 
ton, the invention of this agency was 
largely due. It was a peaceable one, 
and the information gathered thereby 
might have been of much service to 
the king had he chosen to avail him- 
self of it. But he did not. Such a 
committee was appointed by the As- 
sembly of New Hamp.shire, on the 
28th day of May, 1774, to the disgust 
of the governor, who thereupon dis- 
solved that body, hoping by so doing, 
it has been said, to dissolve also the 

2. Another agency suggested was 
that of popular provincial congresses, 
in which all the towns of a colony 
should be represented. Five such 
were assembled in New Hampshire 
between the 21st day of July, 1774, 
and the 21st day of December, 1775, 
inclusive ; the last of w^hich, on the 
5th day of the following January, 
assumed the powers of a state govern- 
ment and became its first legislature. 

3. Still another, similar to the non- 
importation agreements before men- 
tioned, was the formation of solemn 
leagues and covenants, whose mem- 
bers should mutually bind themselves 
to neither import nor consume British 
goods until the grievances complained 
of were removed. In his Memorial 


History of Boston, Mr. Windsor says 
that soon after the Port Bill took ef- 
fect, " 'A solemn league and cove- 
nant ' to suspend all commercial in- 
tercourse with England, and forego 
the use of all British merchandise, 
was forwarded to every town in the 
province ; and the names of those 
who refused to sign it were to be 
published."' Of this Prof. J. K. 
Hosraer also says, "The vSolemn 
League and Covenant spread through- 
out New England, and into the colo- 
nies in general, being a most formid- 
able non-importation agreement which 
the royal governors denounced in 
vain." - 

Not long after this, at some time 
between July and September, a simi- 
lar ' ' covenant ' ' was prepared and 
copies of it dispatched, by the New 
Hampshire Committee of Correspond- 
ence, to the towns of that province. 
To what number these were signed, 
or how many have been preserved, 
does not appear. A pretty diligent 
search has resulted in allusions only 
to such agreements. So far' as the 
writer knows, the Concord covenant 
is the only one which has been pre- 
served to this day. 

On the seventeenth of June, 1774, 
the Assembly of Massachusetts sug- 
gested the organization of a continen- 
tal congress, to consider the condi- 
tion and wants of the several colonies 
and devise measures of general inter- 
est to all. This suggestion was favor- 
ably received, the different colonies 
chose delegates to attend it, and the 
first day of September was appointed 
as the day of its assembling, in Phila- 
delphia. To it the people looked for- 
ward, and awaited its advice. 

An example of such awaiting is 
furnished by the action of the town 
of Keene,'^ to which the New Hamp- 
shire Committee of Correspondence 
had sent for execution a copy of this 
covenant. At a town-meeting, holden 
there on the twenty-sixth day of Sep- 
tember, " To .see if it be the mind of 
the town to sign the covenant and 
engagement, which was sent and rec- 
ommended by the committee of corre- 
spondence, relating to the non impor- 
tation agreement," the following pre- 
amble and vote was adopted : 

Whereas the towns in this province, have 
chosen members < to represent them in a Gen- 
eral Congress of all the colonies, now sitting at 
the city of Philadelphia, to consult and deter- 
mine what steps are necessary for the colonies 
to adopt, voted, therefore, not to sign the nou 
importation agreement until we hear what 
measures said congress have agreed upon for 
themselves and their constituents. 

That this opinion prevailed in many 
of the other towns there is reason to 
believe, and the conclusion is a plaus- 
ible one that, the New Hampshire 
Solemn League and Covenant was 
superseded by the broader intercolo- 
nial "Association" adopted by the 
members of the continental con- 
gress on the 2ist of October, and by 
them personally executed for them- 
selves and their constituents.^ 

1 Windsor's Mem. Hist. Boston, Vol. 3, p. 55. 

2 Hosmer's Life of S. Adams, pp. 298-300. 

3 N. H. Hist. Soc. Col., Vol. 2, p. no. 

* The New Hampshire delegates chosen July 14. 
1774, were Nathaniel Folsom and John Sullivan. 

5 On the 27th of December, 1774, Amherst chose a 
committee "to carry into effect the Association 
agreement." (Hist, of Amherst, p. 366.) On the 
15th of Jauuarv, 1775, Bedford " Voted to adopt the 
measures of the Continental Congress." (Hist, of 
Bedford, p. I2^.) Februarv 23. 1775, Fitzwilliam 
"Voted to abide by the proceedings of the Conti- 
nental Congress." (Hist, of Fitzwilliam, p. 217.) 
May iS, 1774, Hollis " Voted to enforce a strict ad- 
herence to the Association Agreement of the Con- 
tinental Congress. (Hist, of Hollis, p. 144-) Mr. 
Claude Halstead Van Tyne says, "In October of 
1774 the First Continental Congress determined 
upon an association as a 'speedy, effectual and 
peaceable measure,' for obtaining a rearess ot 
their grievances. The Solemn League and Cove- 
nant, which originated in Boston, died in anticipa- 
tion of this measure, because intercolonial associ- 
ation would be more effective." (The Loyalists in 
America, p. 69.) 



The preamble of this was in part 
as follows : 

We, his Majesty's most loyal subjects, the 
Delegates of the several Colonies of New Hamp- 
shire, Massachnsetts Bay, Khode Island. Con- 
necticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, 
the three Lower Counties of New Castle, Kent 
and Sussex on Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, 
North Carolina and South Carolina, deputed 
to represent them in a Continental Congress, 
held in the city of Philadelphia, on the fifth 
day of September, 1774, avowing our allegiance 
to His Majesty; our affection and regard for 
our fellow-subjects in Great Britain and else- 
where ; affected with the deepest anxiety and 
most alarming apprehensions at those griev- 
ances and distresses with which his Majesty's 
American subjects are oppressed ; and having 
taken under our most serious deliberation the 
state of the whole continent, find that the pres- 
ent unhappy situation of our affairs is occa- 
sioned by a ruinous system of Colony Adminis- 
tration adopted by the British Ministry about 
the year 1763, evidently calculated for enslav- 
ing these Colonies, and, with them the British 


To obtain redress of these grievances, which 
threaten destruction to the L,ives, Liberty and 
Property of His Majesty's subjects in North 
America, we are of opinion that a Non-Impor- 
tation, Non-Consumption and Non-Exportation 
Agreement, faithfully adhered to, will prove 
the most speedy, effectual and peaceable meas- 
ure ; and, therefore, we do, for ourselves and 
the inhabitants of the several Colonies whom 
we represent, firmly agree and associate, under 
the sacred ties of Virtue, Honour and the love 
of our Country as follows : 

Next followed the articles of asso- 
ciation, which, with the signatures of 
the delegates from all the colonies 
with the exception of Georgia, occupy 
nearly five closely-printed pages of 
the first volume of the Congress Jour- 

To this Association, as before stated, 
the Concord Covenant of 1774 un- 
doubtedly gave way . A critical exam- 
ination of the seventy-three signatures 
attached thereto affords evidence that 
the subscribers were plain persons, 
intelligent, cognizant of their rights 
and possessed of courage to maintain 

them. Indeed, the very next April 
a goodly number of them, having ex- 
changed their pens for their muskets, 
hurried to Cambridge to report two 
months later at Bunker Hill. 

Thus far, all the measures adopted 
by the American colonists for the 
redress of their grievances had been 
peaceable ones. By such they hoped 
to adjust the differences between 
them and their mother country, but 
the king insisted upon the stern arbit- 
rament of war. By the judgment 
of this tribunal the colonies were 
awarded political freedom and nation- 

If to any it seem strange that our 
fathers should have striven as long 
as they did to obtain a redress of 
their grievances by the peaceable 
means of remonstrances, petitions, 
and non-importation agreements, it 
should be remembered that England 
was their mother country and the 
most powerful nation in the world ; 
while the American colonies, consist- 
ing of but a thin line of thirteen small 
states, strung along the Atlantic coast 
from New Hampshire to Georgia, 
like beads on a cord, were but 
slightly bound to each other by 
acquaintance or material interests ; 
were sparsely settled and possessed 
of an aggregate population of only 
three million people, half of whom 
were Tories. 

The surprising thing is, not that 
they should have been slow in taking 
up arms against their oppressor ; but 
that they should have done so at all. 
And, indeed, not very late were they 
in coming to a realization of the fact 
that the strength of a small people, 
with God and right on their side, 
cannot be measured by numbers. 

The Concord subscribers to this 


Solemn League and Covenant have sacrifices which they consecrated to 

been in their graves well on towards the achievement of American inde- 

an hundred j^ears. It is trusted that peudence. Fit will it be tor the 

their patriotic spirits have not been millions, now enjoying this inestima- 

" disquieted," as was that of Israel's ble blessing, to "solemnly covenant" 

dead prophet, by this " bringing to transmit it unimpaired to their 

them up " to testify of the valor and posterity. 

By iMuise Leivin Matthews. 

The mellow days are drifting. 

The summer hours have gone, 
October winds are lifting 

The leaves upon the thorn. 
The music of the woodland 

No longer floats above, 
And frosty nights are stealing 

The flower that poets love. 

The sumac by the roadside 

Their lamps of crimson burn. 
The cinquefoil in the pastures 

Their yellow bonnets turn. 
By winding streams the alder 

And the willow shake their leaves, 
And many a field is covered 

With stacks of grolden sheaves. 


The purple grapes are hanging 

Beside the orchard wall. 
The golden apples ripen. 

And on the grasses fall. 
Thus autumn is revealing 

What summer treasured rare, 
And nature held in keeping 

These jewels rich and fair. 

Oh ! stately maid of autumn. 

Magician of the year ! 
What marv^els full of wonder, 

What revelations here ! 
A welcome ever greets you. 

Dame Nature bends the knee. 
Announced by woodland heralds. 

Thou queen of royalty ! 

Shoreline Skp:tches, No. 6. 


By H. G. Leslie, M. V. 

HE season waxed apace. 
Alread}^ the first ears of 
green corn were adding 
their toothsome flavor to 
the viands prepared by 
the good housewives of Shoreline, 
when the nightly discussions on the 
stump of the old mast at the foot of 
Captain Jared's garden turned to the 
annual excursion to Grape island. 
From the time to which the memory 
of man reaches not, these expeditions 
had formed a part of the routine of 
life to the dwellers on the banks of 
the river. 

All along the coast from Florida to 
wild Chaloure the mounds of sea 
shells and debris of bygone feasts bear 
ample testimony to the antiquity of 
these observances. The native tribes 
left the fastness of the mountains, in 
summer time, to luxuriate on the 
sands of the seashore. It has even 
been conjectured that Adam, tiring 
of a continuous fruit diet, sailed down 
the Euphrates, at this season of the 
year, to partake of the succulent and 
seductive clam. There is no docu- 
mentary evidence to prove this theory, 
but this migratory instinct of the race 
shows some far-reaching impulse of 

It has ever been a fruitful subject 
for discussion whether the pleasures 
of anticipation were not greater than 
those of realization. I am quite cer 

tain that Captain Jared's associates 
derived a great amount of satisfaction 
in recalling the experiences of pre- 
vious years and making elaborate 
preparations for the coming event. 

The frequent injunctions not to for- 
get this or that showed a thorough 
acquaintance with the necessary de- 
tails, and, in a small way, were sug- 
gestive of how complex a matter the 
fitting out of a whaler for a four-year 
voyage might be. 

As I had no expectation of joining 
in this hygeria I listened as one who 
hears of display and ceremonial in the 
court of kings, on which he may 
never even gaze from afar. I had 
been assured that an initiation into 
the Masonic fraternity was a trifling 
aflair in comparison to acquiring an 
acknowledged position in this exclu- 
sive association. I do not know that 
any formal edict, bearing the great 
seal of the sculpin rampant, had ever 
been promulgated, defining the laws 
of membership, but it was generalh' 
conceded that the right to close com- 
munion with these sea-pickled salts 
could only be acquired by seven years 
of probation, and then only by unan- 
imous approval. 

It is among the recorded traditions 
of the locality that one young man, 
after living circumspectlj' for six years 
and ten months, in an unguarded 
moment expectorated to windward 



and thus forfeited all rights of recog- 
nition to membership. If, however, 
the full probationary period was 
passed, and the candidate invested 
with the authorized regalia, consist- 
ing of a dor}^ clam-digger, and eel- 
spear, no known enormity could dis- 
possess him of his privileges. 

My short residence at Shoreline had 
given me no warrant to expect excep- 
tional favors. I presume, therefore, 
that it was a matter of courtesj^ to 
Captain Somes that he was allowed 
to extend an invitation to his boarder. 
The unexpected pleasure, the ripe 
apple that drops from the tree with- 
out premonition, is often the source 
of the greatest satisfaction. 

As no fixed date had ever been es- 
tablished for this outing, the matter 
came up for full and free discussion, 
and after numerous consultations with 
Robert B. Thomas, "his book," it 
was decided that the week of the Sep- 
tember full moon had the most claims. 
Next came the list of stores, and a 
pine shingle was hung on the door of 
Captain Jared's shop, to take the 
place of a memorandum book. Pork, 
potatoes, onions, and coffee were 
written with varying styles of chirog- 
raphy, but no one ventured to add 
the pies and cake of home life. 

It was a beautiful morning when 
the little flotilla set sail, making 
almost as imposing a display as that 
of the great discoverer when he left 
the harbor of Cadiz. A soft film of 
mist clung to the surface of the river 
and softened the outlines of the pines, 
as well as the rocky island on which 
they had held possession for more 
than a century. Even the chains on 
the old suspension bridge looked like 
threads of warp in some gigantic 

Captain Jared seemed reticent and 
unnecessarily watchful of every 
change of tide and wind as we swept 
down through the Narrows and by 
the ship yards, where tall stage tim- 
bers stood, as mute memorials of a 
by-gone industry. At length, with 
tones that betokened intense satisfac- 
tion, he said, " They can't do it; I 
can lay nearer the wind than that 
Joppa Shay of Jake Short's and out- 
foot Captain Tom's Swampscott 

This was the first intimation that 
I had been a participant in a qusi 
international boat race. It appeared 
that these rivals to Captain Somes' old 
dory had never been tested in a fair 
contest before, and the result was ^ 
eminently satisfactory to him. The 
same spirit that prompts men to risk 
money on the speed of horses comes 
to those to whom the boat is a legiti- 
mate substitute for flesh and muscle. 

We sailed between shores fringed 
on either side by decaying wharves. 
The ripple of the tide disturbed, as it 
had for a century, the decorative or- 
namentation of eel grass and kelp, 
clinging to the dank water-soaked 
piles, while planking and cap-piece 
little by little had rotted and fallen 
away. The odor of decay seemed to 
fill the air. A solitary and decrepit 
old man leaned against the corner of 
an unused warehouse, looking toward 
the line of foam that marked the har- 
bor bar, over which in his youth had 
come so many white sails of a busy 
commercial life ; but only a dim, soli- 
tary skyline met his gaze, a pathetic 
representation of changed conditions. 

" On that wharf," said Captain Ja- 
red, " stood King Bartlett, one of the 
merchant princes of this place before 
the embargo. With three of his ves- 



sels in sight coming up the harbor, 
and a hundred more somewhere at sea, 
feehng the burden of weakh, he Hfted 
up his hands and said, ' Lord, stay 
thy hand, thy servant hath enough.' 
The Lord took him at his word I 
reckon, for his prosperity ceased from 
that day, and he ended his life as a 
public charge. By Jim Hill, if a man 
has got a good thing he had better 
let it alone, in my opinion. Not but 
what I think that that Embargo law 
would have had just the same effect, 
but it don't sound well to talk that 

Below the city we skirted miles of 
clam fiats, always a busy place when 
the tide is out. Peculiarly applicable 
is the standard toast of the Joppa 
fishermen, " Here's to the bank that 
never refuses to discount," for in all 
the years of the history of man no one 
has made his demand with persever- 
ence and a clam-digger in vain. Fac- 
tories may close their doors, mines 
remain unworked until pale-faced 
hunger haunts the home of the work- 
ers, but the brown mud that covers 
nature's stores of food yields its un- 
varying supply of nutriment in the 
white cases of this bivalve. 

A long line of sand dunes extend- 
ing from Cape Ann to Boar's Head, 
had been growing more distinct and 
picturesque as we sailed down the 
bay. They are the barriers that pro- 
tect the harbor as well as the mile 
after mile of salt marsh from the 
direct onslaught of ocean waves. 
Seemingly frail and constantly shift- 
ing with every wind that blows, they 
stand like an advanced guard and 
meet the wiles of the enemy effec- 

Back of these sand hills extends 
Plum Island river, a rather high- 

sounding name for a narrow, tortuous, 
muddy creek, connecting the Merri- 
mac with Ipswich bay, down which 
we were to sail on our way to Grape 

As we changed our course to enter 
this estuary we passed near a low- 
lying island. " This," said Captain 
Somes, " is Woodbridge's island, and 
was once owned by old John Varnum. 
One year when he came down to cut 
his salt hay, he found that a party 
had been camping here. When they 
left they did not take the trouble to 
pull up the tent pins, and by some 
means had overlooked a shoe-knife, 
and left that, also, sticking in the 
sod. When old John saw the knife 
and pins, thinking they were all 
knives, he made a rush, at the same 
time yelling, ' This one is mine and all 
the rest of them.' This saying of old 
John's is a sort of proverb round here, 
and when a man is extra grasping he 
is said to be like John Varnum and 
his shoe knives." 

' ' This stream, ' ' said Captain Jared, 
that seems so quiet and peaceful now, 
was a busy place at one time. Along 
in 1812, when British cruisers were 
thick along the coast, so that vessels 
did not dare to venture outside, un- 
less they were pretty well armed, they 
dug a canal through the Cape from 
Gloucester to Annisquam ; then from 
there it was only about three miles 
into Ipswich bay, up the river, and 
across the Merrimac to Black Rock 
creek, which gave an inside route all 
the way to Hampton. They had a 
regular line of big barges, which they 
poled and towed all the way through, 
loaded with West India goods one 
way and farm produce the other. My 
father worked on one of these boats, 
and a curious thing happened to him 



one night back of Salisbury beach. 
I have heard him tell the stor}' a good 
many times. It was a bright moon- 
light night, with not a breath of air 
stirring, so he took out a long tow 
line to help warp the barge along. 
You know these marshes are full of 
sink-holes or little ponds, that when 
the tide is out seem to be nothing but 
black mud. He was plodding by one 
of those places when he saw a chest 
sticking up an inch or two out of the 
mud. It was near enough so that he 
got hold of one corner, and felt it 
move a little. He could feel some 
kind of great big metal hinges. Just 
then they called out from the barge 
to know what he was stopping for, 
and father concluded he would n't say 
anything about it, but come back 
later and get his chest of gold, for he 
thought it was the treasure box from 
some ship. When he came back he 
couldn't seem to locate the place. I 
suppose he spent more than a month 
prodding around those holes, but he 
could never get track of it again. 
Whether his moving it caused it to 
settle down out of sight I don't know. 
This worried father so I think it 
shortened his days. He died when 
he wan't but ninety-one, and he ought 
to have lived to be more than a hun- 
dred. I have noticed that when men 
want to get rich sudden it kind of 
wears them out. I should kind of 
like to know what was in that chest 
myself, but I shan't worry about it. 
It will come up again sometime and 
somebody will get it." 

While Captain Somes had been 
talking our boat had followed the 
winding channel of Plum Island river, 
with the sharp jagged outline of sand 
hills against the sky on the left. The 
ravines between them had a fringe of 

beach plum bushes, but their peaks 
rose above the green of vegetation, 
hard and glistening like a wolf's tooth. 
Away to the right stretched mile upon 
mile of level marsh, dotted at regular 
intervals with stacks of salt hay, 
standing upon staddles, to keep them 
above the tide line. I remarked that 
beautiful as the scene surely was in 
the light of a tranquil summer day it 
must present a far different appear- 
ance in winter, when cold and storm 
were sweeping over the dunes. 

"Yes," said Captain Jared, "I 
can remember very well the Christ- 
mas of 1839, when the ship Poca- 
hontas was wrecked on this beach 
and all on board lost. They carried 
big crews in those days, and nearly 
all of them lived in sight of where 
they were lost. They had no such 
thing in those days as life saving 
crews, and no one knew anything 
about it until the next morning, 
when the beach was strewed with 
wreckage and dead bodies for miles. 

" I have thought a good many 
times how tough it must have been 
for those poor fellows, clinging to the 
rigging, and freezing, where they 
could see the lights in their own 
homes, and know that the children 
were playing their Christmas games, 
and knowing that they hadn't a 
ghost of a chance to see daylight 
again. The ocean is a pretty hard 
master, and if a man gets together a 
few dollars for old age, he earns it by 
taking lots of chances." 

In an old edition of Blunt's Coast 
Pilot the directions for entering one 
of the small harbors on the Maine 
shore were, " Steer for Bill Symond's 
red barn on the hill." Cyclones 
might destroy, fire consume, or the 
hand of the decorative artist change 



the structure, but still the guide to 
mariners would proclaim, " Steer for 
the red barn." In a similar way 
the navigation of Ipswich bay de- 
pended on Marm Small's house, 
which was to be kept on the port 
quarter going down, and starboard 
quarter coming up Grape island 
channel. By means of this limited 
but satisfactory chart we were ena- 
bled to reach our destination in due 
time and with no perilous adven- 

The long bank of yellow sand left 
glistening in the afternoon sun by 
the receding tide, suggested the ad- 
visability of procuring the clams for 
the contemplated chowder, and soon 
a busy group were disturbing the 
resting-place of the bivalves, while 
others prodded the creek near by for 
eels which were considered a valua- 
ble adjunct to the compound. 

In the meantime the preparations 
for the camp were going on. The 
idea of procuring a house for shelter 
was never for a moment considered, 
although several rough barracks 
were near at hand. A tent also 
would have lacked a certain primi- 
tive element which seemed desirable. 
The dories were hauled well up on 
the dry sand, and turned on their 
sides in pairs, at an angle of forty- 
five degrees, thus making a very fair 
representation of a half opened clam 
shell, and furnishing very comforta- 
ble protection from the weather. A 
bed of salt hay, purloined from a 
neighboring stack, completed the 
preparations for the night's rest, and 
proved how few of the luxuries of 
life are absolutely needed for com- 

Scarcely had the dawn of the sec- 
ond day streaked the eastern sky 

with its purple tints when discus- 
sions and preparations began for the 
feast that was to be the crowning 
event of the week. To one who has 
never participated in a genuine clam- 
bake — not the fake preparations of 
some hired caterer, but a work of 
leisure, of loving care — there has 
been something left out of his life 
that Delmonico's elaborate spreads 
can never rival. He who has grasped 
the bended snathe and heard the soft 
swish of the falling grass mingle 
with the song of birds, in the dewy 
morn, on some upland farm, has 
learned a note of music that Bee- 
thoven never taught. 

The experiences of lowly life, the 
primitive conditions of the race, are 
well worth the time spent in actual 
experience. It is a mistaken idea 
that pleasure only falls in the lap of 
luxury, or wealth holds the key to 
the temple of happiness. Many a 
favored son of fortune would yield a 
large per cent, of his income for the 
privilege of kneeling beside a fisher- 
man's smoke-stained pot and partake 
of its contents with the zest and relish 
of its owner. 

The preparations that precede a 
successful clambake involve no in- 
significant amount of labor, and for 
the next two days the whole party 
shared in the preliminary proceed- 

The stones were collected, one by 
one, and packed in proper form lor 
the oven ; driftwood was gathered 
along the beach, a bit here and there, 
until a goodlj' pile was accumu- 
lated ; the rocks at the harbor mouth 
were stripped of their burden of sea 
weed ; clams, lobsters, and fish were 
the contribution from the salt water, 
and a neighboring farmer furnished 



tlie green corn. At length all was 
ready, and the tired but enthusiastic 
participants gathered in a circle to 
render judgment when the proper 
amount of heat had been accumu- 
lated by the rocky bed. Opinions 
fluctuated, but at length the general 
concensus of opinion declared that 
the time had arrived to consign the 
various components to their warm 
reception, covered by a thick mantle 
of fragrant help. Then came the 
hours of patient waiting while appe- 
tites were stimulated by the fragrant 
odor of the steaming mass. 

Intemperance in eating is as much 
to be deplored as the like sin in the 
use of beverages ; but if ever tempta- 
tion came in a peculiarly seductive 
form, it was in this primitive method 
of cookery. No doled out dish of 
limited proportions tantalized the 
vision of the epicure, but the whole 
steaming dish redolent with inviting 
odors was at his command. 

As the feast proceeded it was evi- 
dent that the pra}' er of the old Scotch 
elder would be appropriate, "Lord 
wilt thou hae marcy on us for we hae 
nae marcy on oursels." At length. 
Python-like, each one sought his 
place of rest and refused to be inter- 
ested in the affairs of men. King- 
doms might rise and fall ; crowns 
be cast like skittles on the green. 
All these things were of no account. 

I dropped into an uneas}- sleep, 
from which I was aroused some 
hours later by a series of indistinct 
rautterings and groans. At first they 
seemed to be a great way off, but as 
I came more fully to my senses I 
found that they proceeded from my 
companion, Captain Jared. " Gosh 
all hemlock" said he, "why did I 
eat that last pan of clams ? My 

G. M. — 15 

stomach and liver are all tied in a 
knot like a hank of spun yarn. Holy 
Smoke," yelled he, as he doubled up 
with a fresh spasm of colic. 

Thinking of my own creature com- 
fort, I had taken the precaution to 
stow among my private belongings a 
bottle of Holland gin. I knew that 
Captain Somes held exaggerated 
ideas in regard to the use of stimu- 
lants of all kinds, and made his 
boast that he had never tasted a drop 
of any kind in his life. I was thor- 
oughly frightened, and it seemed to 
be the only source at hand, so I went 
outside the rude shelter and poured 
out two thirds of a tumbler of the 
fiery liquid, and added a teaspoonful 
of red pepper. This I urged him to 
drink without stopping to take breath. 
No martyr ever went to the stake 
with a more innocent soul than Cap- 
tain Jared. 

Thd vile compound reached his 
epigastrium like a Democratic torch 
light procession, with much enthu- 
siasm, but minus the brass band. 
The music part, however, was made 
up by the captain in a series of snorts 
and ejaculations that would have 
broken up a Sunday-school. It had 
the desired effect, however, and the 
twisting and turning grew less, until 
a long contented snore announced 
the fact that he had cast anchor in a 
haven of rest and comfort. 

We slept late that morning, and I 
noticed the captain's eyes looked 
rather red when he crawled from un- 
der the upturned boat. He soused 
his head vigorously in a pail of cold 
sea watei", after which with a mug of 
strong coffee he seemed to be him- 
self again. After lighting his pipe 
he seemed to meditate for a moment 
or two, then said : "By Gosh, that 


medicine saved my life." As long few hours spent in procuring the ex- 
as this proposition could not be dis- pected treat of clams, fish, and lob- 
proved, and ab I felt sure it would sters for those who had remained by 
either kill or cure, the decision the hearthstones in Snoreline. Then 
stands. the white sails were spread to the 
The buzz saw of time clips the breeze and we threaded the winding 
slabs from the days of pleasure with channel leading to the Merrimac. 
a celerit}" that is far from pleasing. The return voyage was uneventful, 
All too soon the week had slipped and as we rounded Gunner's Point 
into the current of the past, and the the crescent curve of Shoreline, 
day for the home bound trip had bathed in the glow of the afternoon 
arrived. The Ipswich hills had be- sun, presented a picture of rare 
come familiar landmarks, and the beauty. 

lone tree which marked the highest Be the absence long or short, the 

elevation in Rowley seemed like an feeling of home coming is one of sat- 

old friend. The pale thin blue of the isf action. 

autumn haze obscured the outline of Ipswich days and the "outing of 

Pine island and almost blotted out the Possum club" form a page in 

the rounded dome of Po hill in the history around which memory clings 

northern sky. The boats were re- with the tenacity and fragrance of a 

turned to their native element, and a tropic vine. 


By J. M. B. WrigJit. 

When autumn winds blow chill and drear, 

And faded all the sod, 
We see in loveliness appear 

The plumes of goldenrod. 

They cluster on the sloping hill, 

And on the open plain, 
Like armies rushing on to strife, 

A victory to gain. 

Beside them grows in beaut}' fair, 

Upspringing to the view, 
The realm of nature's gifts to share, 

The harebell's softer blue. 

The twain are but a smaller part 

Of the great host of flowers ; 
They brighten many a saddened heart 

Through autumn's changing hours. 

By Bennett B. Perkins. 

^OW that the probate court 
has declared James 
Harms worth legally 
dead, and his will has 
been passed by the sur- 
rogate, I, a relative, believe that no 
harm can come from making known 
to the general public the facts of his 

Those of us who are old enough to 
recall events of ten j^ears ago will 
have no trouble in remembering 
some of the incidents. Few mys- 
teries have excited more national 
interest. To the others I will ex- 
plain that James Harmsworth was a 
retired lumber dealer of Omaha, 
who, having amassed a fortune, had 
turned his attention to the breeding 
of Great Danes, and still found time 
hanging heavily on his hands. In 
common with other men of wealth 
and known philanthropy he received 
a large number of curious letters, the 
majority of which strove to impress 
upon his mind the beauties of char- 

On the morning of the 25th of Sep- 
tember, 1890, while engaged with 
his mail — sorting the wheat from the 
chaff — he found a letter bearing a 
foreign stamp, and addressed : 

James Harmsworth. 



The misspelHng being a common 
occurrence attracted no especial at- 
tention, but the typewritten enclos- 
ure puzzled him. It was : 

Delphis, a., Aug. I, 1890. 
Citizen Harmsworth: 

This is to inform you that your bill of 456,- 
320 lea, for the erection of the peristyle of the 
Delphis Pantheon has been approved, and will 
be paid immediately. 

Cordially yours, 

Leon de Cortu, Clerk. 
To James Harmsworth, Omar, A.. 

The millionaire read and re-read 
this many times but without coming 
to any understanding of its meaning. 

"Some mistake," he muttered, 
referring again to the envelope. The 
address, barring the "Omar" for 
"Omaha," was plain enough, but 
the stamp was strange. It was 
oblong, placed horizontally, and of a 
pale green color. The motif : a pen- 
ticle between two palm trees. The 

Commonwealth of Arnhault. 
2 Sol. 

It was postmarked San Francisco, 
and he noticed that the provoking 
" Due 2 c " had been added. 

Harmsworth's knowledge of geo- 
graphy was not extensive, and the 
fact that he had never heard of 
either Arnhault or Delphis, did not 
impress him ; but he knew that he 
had never built a peristyle in his 
life. So he took the letter to the 
post-ofhce, where, after much con- 
sulting of lists and guides, he re- 
ceived the astonishing information 
that there were no such places in 

" Then how came the thing in the 
mail ?" he queried. 



" Oh, doubtlessly a hoax," they 

Harmsworth pocketed his letter 
and left, but the matter kept recur- 
ring to his mind. That there was a 
joke, the point of which he could not 
see, bothered him more than all else. 
He spent considerable time, and his 
library was enlarged by the addition 
of numerous atlases, but to no pur- 
pose ; and finally his attention re- 
turned to Great Danes. 

On the first of November, when 
the matter had about faded from his 
mind, he received by mail a heavy 
package upon which he was obliged 
to pay a large sum for postage, not- 
withstanding that it was liberally 
bedecked with the green stamps of 
the "Arnhault Commonwealth." 
Upon opening this he was dum- 
founded. It was full of little bags 
containing gold pieces, — thousands 
of them, each stamped with the pen- 
tacle and palm trees ; also' a slip 
which read : 

Delphis, Sep. 10, 1890. 
Installment No. 7 of twenty-five thousand 
(25,000) lea, on account of James Harmsworth 
for building of peristyle at Delphis. 

R. P. Jones, Treas. 

The millionaire was seriously dis- 
turbed. If this was a joke then 
somebody was paying high for the 
fun. He knew gold well enough, 
even if he did n't geography. 

After thinking the matter over, he 
concluded that it would be best to 
have counsel, and accordingly he 
took a train for Washington. Upon 
arriving he sought his senator, and 
together they called at the post-office 
department. Harmsworth stated the 
case, and laid the articles before the 

officials. But here, as at Omaha, he 
was baffled. The files and records 
utterl}' ignored the existence of the 
Arnhault Commonwealth, nor did 
any of the experts remember having 
heard of it. 

vSuch information as they were able 
to furnish concerned the San Fran- 
cisco postmark, the date of which 
proved that the letter had been 
among those taken from the wreck of 
the Solient on An.son Island. The 
stamps interested them, and one was 
kept for further investigation. 

With like results the}' visited the 
mint, the geodetic, and the state de- 
partments. Then Harmsworth went 
home more perplexed than ever, — 
and found the third message await- 
ing him ; an importunate dun for 
millinery. This was particularly ex- 
asperating as he was a confirmed 

As a last resort he wrote to the 
Royal Geographical society, and in 
due time received an answer. They 
had no knowledge of the place. 
They could onl}' suppose that it 
might be a cooperative colony re- 
cently started. The name "Arn- 
hault " suggested a German origin, 
but "Omar" was undoubtedly 
Arabic. Would he kindly inform 
them when he had located it? 

Harmsworth snorted contemptu- 
ously when he had read this. Who 
ever knew of a cooperative colony 
building a peristyle? His under- 
standing was, that whatever extra 
money they might have was always 
spent upon a printing press for the 
publishing of a socialistic newspaper. 
As for Arnhault being German, and 
Omar, Arabic, why use the English 
language, and what in the devil was 



Being unable to acquire any fur- 
ther information, he placed the coins 
in the bank and strove to forget the 
matter ; but only to find it impossi- 
ble. Naturally of a persistent, cu- 
rious disposition, the very paucity of 
his knowledge made him more so ; 
and when some of his friends, know- 
ing of the affair, laughed at the joke 
being played upon him, — as they 
supposed, — he vowed to find the place 
even if it took his last dollar. 

One night he had an inspiration : 
the messages were postmarked ' ' San 
Francisco," therefore he would go 
there and seek information. He 
recollected an old friend. Captain 
Kerapp, who had' spent his life upon 
the sea, journeying from place to 
place as the exigencies of trade de- 
manded, but making San Francisco 
his home port. Surely he must 
know of this mysterious place. 

So he went to the City of the 
Golden Gate, and was lucky enough 
to find his friend in port, having but 
just arrived from Honolulu. 

He lost no time in putting th'e in- 
quiry to him, but the old sea-dog 
only shook his head doubtfully. 

"Arnhault?"' he said. "Arn- 
hault ? Sure you do n't mean Arn- 
hem Land in Australia?" 

' ' Have they a government of their 
own, and do they build peristyles 
costing a quarter of a million?" en- 
quired Harmsworth eagerly. 

Captain Kempp laughed. 

"Hardly!" he replied. ' "They 
build nothing but negro huts." 

Harmsworth was disappointed. 
He had hoped to obtain some clew 
from Kempp, but now he was balked. 
It seemed as if the whole thing ivas 
a hoax. But that package of gold in 
Omaha ; how could he account for 

that ? His thoughts were interrupted 
by the captain. 

"Jim! By the great Neptune! 
I 've thought of something that may 
help you. Hold on 'till I look in 
the log." "Yes," he said, after 
a long search " I've found it. I'm 
right. lyisten. 

About three years ago I was com- 
ing from the Marshalls to Honolulu 
when a fancy took me to call at Mor- 
rell Island. It 's a place that sailors 
don't sight very often, so I decided 
to go out of my way in order to visit 
it — might be a ca.-taway, you see. 
We found nothing but the timbers 
of a Japanese junk, and a fairly good 
quarter- boat upon whose stern was 
the name" — he looked in the log and 

read — 

Captain Nemo. 

Harmsworth jumped up. " Hur- 
rah!" he shouted. "At last I've 
found it." 

"Have you?" said Kempp. 

"Why, Morrell Island, wherever 
that is." 

The sailor laughed. "Morrell 
Island," he said, "isn't big enough 
to hold a warehouse, much less a 
peristyled Pantheon. Besides, Jim, 
there isn't a building or a human 
being upon it." 

Harmsworth subsided, but all that 
day he thought the matter over, and 
in the night reached a decision. The 
result was that about a month later 
Captain Kempp touched Harms- 
worth upon the shoulder and said : 

"There's Morrell Island, Jim, on 
the larboard bow." 

The millionaire gazed eagerly at 
the small, level atoll that he had come 
so far to see. A quarter boat was 



put over and he and the captain were 
rowed ashore. But nothing came of 
it, the place being barren and de- 
serted. The boat and even the re- 
mains of the junk had disappeared. 

Yet it was not for the sole purpose 
of visiting this dot of land in the 
North Pacific that Harmsworth had 
chartered Captain Kempp's ship, and 
consequently they began a search 
that lasted nearly a year, and covered 
the greater part of Micronesia. 

One day, the 24th of December, 
according to the log of Captain 
Kempp, they sighted a small, un- 
chartered atoll several hundred miles 
to the east of Wake's Island. It was 
uninhabited, but Harmsworth, who, 
by the wa}^ was not a good sailor, 
expressed a desire to land, and the 
weather being favorable, the ship 
was anchored, and they went ashore. 
So pleasant did they find it to be that 
they decided to spend several days 
there, sleeping aboard. 

On the morning of the second day, 
the 25th, there was a heavy haze 
upon the water which rendered it dif- 
ficult for those in the boat. Harms- 
worth and three sailors, to find the 
way. They had proceeded but a few 
hundred fathoms when one of the 
men stopped rowing and held up his 
hand in a signal to listen. Instantly 
all was silent and every ear was 
strained. Through the fog came a 
muffled "chug-chug" of a steamer's 
engines, and the hiss of her exhaust. 
Sounds in a fog are so baffiing that 
they could not locate the position of 
the stranger, but, as they lay on their 
oars the haze began to lift, slowl}^ 
and ghost-like. , 

First the island became dimly visi- 
ble, then the spars of their own ship 
rising above a point of rock. Right 
and left the rays of the sun tore the 
bank of mist, pushing the shattered 
columns seaward ; and as ihey fled 
they uncovered the form of a small 
steamer, moving very slowly parallel 
to the coast and in their direction. 
She was evidently a man-of-war, as a 
barbette was visible on her side and 
a small turret in the bow. She was 
painted green and had two cream- 
colored funnels. Her flag hung limp 
and motionless, rendering her na- 
tionality unknown, but even as they 
gazed the breeze freshened, straight- 
ening its folds. Then suddenly 
Harmsworth shouted and jumped up, 
nearly overturning the boat. Surelj- 
he knew that ensign : a penticle be- 
tween two palm trees. li was the Jiag 
of the Arnhaidt Coinmo7iwealth ! 

He waved his hat and shouted, 
gesticulating like a maniac : actions 
which must have been seen aboard 
the gunboat, for her speed was 
slackened until she barely kept sea- 
way, and an officer in uniform upon 
the bridge leveled a glass upon him. 

Harmsworth ordered the sailors to 
row towards her, and soon they were 
under her lee. A rope ladder was 
dropped, and, still very much ex- 
cited, he climbed aboard. The officer 
met him, aud a long, animated con- 
versation ensued. 

Suddenly a bell rang in the engine 
room ; the propeller whirled ; the 
gun-boat sprang ahead ; and the last 
the astonished sailors in the boat saw 
was Harmsworth standing at the 
stern and waving them a good-by. 


By C. C. Lore/. 

Lo ! a small bird athwart the sky- 
Flits vaguely- E'er for something lost, 

It seems its errant wings to ply, 
Yet deigns to sing above the frost. 

Thought may not wonder. Tiny thing. 
Its still keen sight betimes has crossed 

The South's warm verge. For constant spring, 
It deigns to sing above the frost. 

The soul is like a bird, I ween : 

On restless winds of autumn tossed. 

It oft espies the endless green 

And deigns to sing above the frost. 


By Eva J. Beede. 

T was a sultry afternoon 
in August. Not a leaf 
stirred on the trees, and 
the bushes and grasses 
along the roadside were 
powdered white with fine dust. 

Not a ripple marred the mirror-like 
surface of the beautiful sheet of water 
upon the shores of which were clus- 
tered the neat white cottages, with 
their green blinds, making the little 
hamlet of Eakeside. 

The village was taking its after- 
noon nap. Nothing was heard save 
the drowsy hum of insects, when the 
stillness was broken by the sound of 
slowly-moving wagon wheels, and 
Nahum Bennett's old white horse 

came around the corner and stopped 
at one of the stone posts in front of 
the store. Nahum got out stifiiy and 
hitched the horse, then carefully 
lifted from the wagon a basketful of 
eggs, which he carried into the store ; 
meanwhile Mrs. Bennett, unassisted, 
climbed over the wheel and followed 
her husband. 

"What be ye a payin' fur aiges 
' now ? ' ' asked Nahum of the store- 
keeper, as he set his basket on the 

" Fifteen cents," was the reply. 

" Wa'al ye may count 'em out; 
the woman sez there's six derzen on 

This proving to be the correct count, 



the eggs were exchanged for tea and 
coffee, a quarter of pepper, a bar of 
soap, and a ten-cent piece of " Good 
Smoke," which Nahuni put into his 
pocket, and turning to his wife said : 

" You wait here, Elmiry, whilst I 
slip down ter the blacksmith shop, 
fur ole Whitey hez lost orf one o' her 
hind shoes." 

Just then Reuben Morse and his 
wife drove up, and Mrs. Morse got 
out and carried into the store some- 
thing tied up in a large red cotton 
handkerchief, while Reuben drove 
on up the hill to the grist-mill. 

" I've fetched ye in some more 'o 
tham sole footin's," said Mrs. Morse 
to the storekeeper, as she placed her 
bundle on the counter and proceeded 
to untie it. "I want a couple o' 
yards o' dark caliker fur an' apern, 
then the rest that's comin' tew me 
I'll take up in fact'ry cloth, if ye can 
gim me a good stout piece." 

After the trading was done, the 
two women found some chairs and 
sat down by the open door to await 
the return of their respective lords. 

" Dretful hot an' muggy, haint 
it? " said Mrs. Morse. 

"Yes," replied Mrs. Bennett, "an' 
how the flies doos pester a bod}' ; 
seems if they'd eat ye up. Sign o' 
rain hain't it? " 

"Wa'al, I b'ieve so. It's needed 
bad 'nuff, they say wells is gittin' 
awful low. Be you a goin' down ter 
camp meetin' this week. Mis' Ben- 

"I sh'd like ter, ef ennybody's a 
goin'. I hain't ben fur four year." 

They say Thursday's the bestdaj^," 
continued Mrs. Morse. 

' ' The bishop preaches in the morn- 
in', and a missionary from some for- 
rin parts — Ingy or Chiny — in the 

arternoon. Be ye dretful driv ; can't 
ye git orf ? " 

" We hain't got quite done hayin' 
yit, an' we've got work folks a com- 
in' termorrer, an' nexdy shore, an' 
mebby all the week, but then I thinks 
like Abby can manage ter git the 
vittles on ter the table, ef I leave 'em 
all cooked up." 

" Course she can. Now I'll fry a 
fresh batch o' nutcakes, an' we've 
got some skim-milk cheese that will 
taste dretful good with 'em fur our 

"An' I'll bake some seed cakes, 
an' take a teapot with a drawin' o' 
tea in my little carpet bag. We can 
git some hot water in ter some o' the 

"So we can," said Mrs. Morse. 
" I know a woman that comes to the 
Sandidge house every year ; she's real 
'commerdatin', an' she 'II let us steep 
the tea on her stove. We sh'd feel 
better to hev some warm drink. My 
man 's so handy 'bout shiftin' fur his- 
self that I don't mind leavin' on him. 
He likes cracker an' milk. Kf it's a 
fair day, I don't see nothin' ter hen- 
der our hevin' a fust rate good time. 
There 's Reuben now, a comin' down 
the hill with the grist." 

vSoon old Whitey came trotting up 
the road from the blacksmith's shop, 
and in a few minutes the two good 
women were jogging towards their 
homes, with their heads full of the 
plans that they had been making for 
their day's outing. 

The next Thursday morning Mrs. 
Nahum Bennett and Mrs. Reuben 
Morse were at the railroad station 
a half hour before the train was 

Mrs. Morse, who was a stout woman, 
wore a bright- colored, large-plaided 



giugham dress, a Paisley shawl, and 
a capacious black straw bonnet. 

Mrs. Bennett was rather tall, and 
quite slender ; she wore a bright green 
dress — it had been her best dress for 
twelve years ; a long black silk sack, 
with a white handkerchief pinned 
around her neck, and a black hat 
trimmed with red flowers. 

The meeting was in the grove; 
The grand old trees, wnth the birds 
twittering in the branches, formed a 
green canopy over the heads of the 
people, and behind the speaker's 
stand glistened the waters of the 
beautiful lake. Both women agreed 
that the bishop's discourse went "a 
leetle ahead" of anything that they 
had ever heard before, and that the 
missionary woman " spoke jest beau- 
tiful. ' ' The ' ' Sandidge ' ' woman was 
there, and kindl)^ assisted them in 
making their tea, so nothing seemed 
wanting for the perfect enjoyment of 
the day. There had been a shower 
the night before, however, and Mrs. 
Bennett felt that she had taken a lit- 
tle cold sitting with her feet on the 
damp ground. 

Poor Mrs. Bennett never recovered 
from that cold, and in a few months 
died of quick consumption. 

Nahuni Bennett had a sou and a 
daughter. The son, Philip, was nine- 
teen 5'ears old, but the daughter, 
Abby, was only twelve, so Nahum 
was obliged to look about for a house- 
keeper. Hittie Watson, a maiden of 
some forty years, living in a neigh- 
boring town, was recommended, and 
he secured her services. 

Hittie was a very plain woman, 
but she was a good cook and had a 
smart, business-like way, and before 
long she became an indispensable 

part of the Bennett household. Na- 
hum felt that he should be very loth 
to have Hittie go away, but it cost 
considerable to hire a maid, so he 
thought he might as well marry her, 
thinking that Hittie, of course, could 
have no objections, for she would be 
getting a good home ; then, too, both 
the children seemed to like her. 

So Nahum used to sit in the kitchen 
Sunday nights talking to Hittie, 
thinking that he was courting her, 
until he grew sleepy and went off to 
bed. Then Philip, having built a 
fire in the front room, would invite 
Hittie in there, and they would sit 
up and talk until long after the old 
father had gone to sleep. 

Finally the old man made up his 
mind to speak out, so one stormy 
Sunda}^ night, when they had drawn 
near the kitchen fire, cosily eating 
apples and pop corn, "Plittie," said 
he, " hain't I a good pervider? " 

" Yes, you be," replied Hittie. 

" Wa'al, don't you think you'd 
like ter stay here right along ? " 

" Fust rate," was the reply, 

"Then, Hittie, we'll be merried 
pretty soon. I s'pose we 'd orter 
wait a spell, though, fur the speech 
o' people, till poor Elmiry's ben dead 
a leetle longer." 

"But, Nahum, I can' t marry you,'' 
said Hittie. 

"I sh'd like ter know why not." 

"'Cause I've promised to marry 
somebody else, and the day 's sot." 

" Who in creation is it? " 

"Why, it's Phillup! " 

"Phillup! Wa'al, I do declare! 
Ef that haint a leetle the meanest of 
ennything I ever heerd on yit ! A 
man's bein' cut out by his boy like 
that! " 


By Moses Gage Shirley. 

Folks hev their picters took it seems now almost every day 

An' stick em in the papers jist to pass the time away, 

But to a plain old-fashioned chap what haint no style like me 

It seems to be a waste of ink an' useless energy. 

For instance there was Hiram Smith, a Pineville selectman. 

Who got the idy in his head the world he could command. 

An' so he got his whiskers trimmed, an' hed his picter took. 

An' they put it in the Daily Breeze to see how he would look. 

An' every day or two it wuz, it seemed to us at least. 

If Smith attended court er went unto some spread er feast. 

They kept er showin' of him up an' puttin' of him in 

The papers, till we said at last, I jings its gettin' thin. 

An' we went an' found the editor an' told him we hed seen 

Enough of that air phiz ter make a yaller dog turn green. 

He tried to be perlite, an' laid the blame on to his crew. 

But we told him to shet us off an' pay us what was due. 

I'm sick of this blamed picter craze w^hen a man has the idee 

That every daj^ er two he can impose his phiz on me. 

Mabby I'm behind the times, an' mabby I am not. 

But on this question we have give a stack of honest thought. 

An' thinkin' of it o'er to-day it brings it back to me, 

An' I wonder at the folks who now air makin' history. 

Shall Admiral Dewey with his stars won at Manalla bay 

An' Gridley who stood on the deck upon that glorious day 

Appear beside one Daniel Drew and his descendants five, 

Upon the prestige and the fame of heroes should they thrive ? 

An' Col. Bryan we hev heerd with his free silver speech. 

Shall he pass down the groove of time clean out beyent our reach, 

Alon' of Samuel Worthington an' his four hundred shote, 

Who never for a Dimmicrat wuz ever known to vote ? 

Must Roosevelt and Cleveland, too, an' Pierpont Morgan go 

Alon' with all the giddy throng to make a passiu' show ? 

These air sum of the things that do consarn us as we write, 

Fer no one knows jist where er when the picter men will light. 

The folks with a big fambly tree, the otgexenans. 

They 've hunted the hull country o'er till in the press they stand. 

They 've got our heroes all mixed up until we cannot tell 

Who found some patent medicine an' took it an' got well. 



Or went unto a distant shore an' got no ticket back, 

But at them all the picter men some time hev had a whack. 

The Peffers with their whiskers long, the silly chorus girls, 

The senators and governors with furren dukes an' erls. 

Make up the motley throng we see in the papers every day, 

Until we don't know who to pass er who should hev their say. 

The heroes and the villians both appear on the same plane, 

They hev their picters took and both air printed in the same. 

They 've got things down so fine we don't know what they'll think of 

Unless they find the minister who never used a text. 
Er find sum one aroun' alive who Bill Jones used ter know, 
An' the only maiden in the place who never hed a beau. 
Perhaps they '11 run across the man who minds his own affairs, 
An' the woman who has time to sew and has no fambly cares. 
They '11 strike it soon enough we know, but this hull picter mess, 
Acordin' to our pint of view, is tarnal foolishness. 


By I. A. Lovt'land. 

HE family history of the 
Eovelands extends 
through several centu- 
ries. In England they 
can be traced back to 
the fifteenth centurj^ by their names 
on monuments and in church records. 
One of the family was a prominent 
merchant and a director in the old 
East India company. Another, Sir 
John Eoveland, was four times mayor 
of London, and built St. Michael's 
church. At the present time, Eove- 
lands can be found in England. 

Early in the settlement of this 
country members of the family came 
here. In 1645 the name of Robert 
Eoveland is appended to a deed, as a 
witness, at Boston, Mass. He set- 
tled in Connecticut about 1663, and 
found at Glastonbury, or Wethers- 
field, a widow Eoveland and her 
three sons. The husband and father 

had died on the passage from Eng- 
land. He was the supercargo of the 
vessel, and a person of ability and 
character. The family are known to 
have been in Connecticut in 1635, 
which is the first trace of the Eove- 
lands in this country. Of the sons, 
one was accidentally drowned while 
crossing the Connecticut river, one 
died unmarried, and to the other son 
is generally ascribed the credit of 
being the progenitor of that branch 
of the Eovelands with which we are 
particularly interested. The Eove- 
lands w^ere among the early settlers 
in the eastern part of our state. 

Rev. Samuel Chapman Eoveland 
was born in the little town of Gilsum, 
in the southwestern part of New 
Hampshire, on August 25, 1787. 
His father was a farmer and shoe- 
maker, and an tipright and respected 
citizen. At an early age, young 



Loveland displayed a passion for 
study. While plowing on his fath- 
er's farm it is related that he held a 
book in one hand, while with the 
other he held the plow, and that some 
fault was found with him because he 
did not plow better. With his mind 
absorbed in the book before him, it is 
probable that his furrows were not 
evenly turned or of a uniform width 
or depth, and that the criticisms 
made in regard to his plowing were 
just ones. Despairing of making of 
him a successful farmer, his father at 
length resolved to give him what he 
called a liberal education, and ac- 
cordingly sent him to an academy for 
one term. This was then considered 
a great thing, and the father was 
often heard to remark upon what he 
had done for " Sam." 

With this one term at the academy, 
and with such instruction as he could 
obtain at the short, poor schools of 
his native town, he began a remarka- 
ble scholastic career. From an early 
age he aspired to become a Univer- 
salist minister, and all his studies 
were pursued with that object in view. 
A neighbor of his had been three 
years a student at Dartmouth col- 
lege, and had a few Latin and Greek 
books. Among them was part of an 
old Ivatin Bible, which he procured, 
and with a grammar and a dictionary 
he plodded through several chapters. 
He then commenced Greek with old 
Scherelius and a grammar, and tum- 
bling back and forth in search of 
roots of words, changes, syncopa- 
tions, and construction of sentences, 
he was able to read out a couple of 
verses in an entire day. Words that 
could not be traced were carefully 
noted down for future investigation. 
The year 1811 he devoted exclusively 

to study in direct preparation for the 
ministry, and the next year he re- 
ceived a letter of fellowship from the 
general convention at its session in 
Cavendish, Vt. In 1814 he was or- 
dained at Westmoreland, N. H., by 
the same body. 

His first pulpit efforts were at 
Richmond, Vt., but he soon settled 
in Reading, Vt., and remained there 
some forty years. In 1828 he pre- 
pared and published a Greek and 
English lexicon of the New Testa- 
ment. In consequence of the ripe 
scholarship displayed in its prepara- 
tion, Middlebury college conferred 
on him the honorary degree of Mas- 
ter of Arts. Of the two volumes of 
this lexicon known to be in existence 
at the present time one is in our state 
library at Concord. 

He was a fine Hebrew scholar, and 
had carefully studied the Chaldee, 
Syriac, Arabic, the Anglo-Saxon, 
French, Spanish, German, modern 
Greek, Danish, besides others to a 
lesser extent. At stated hours each 
day a certain amount of time was de- 
voted to three different languages, 
until each and all had taken turns. 
Referring to his study of languages, 
he once wrote of himself : "I love 
the study of languages on account of 
their relation to each other, and it 
seems I have some real specimens of 
what men have done, and thought, 
and are, when I know something of 
their forms of speech." 

Extensive as were his attainments 
as a linguist, the study of languages 
was not sufficient to satisfy his men- 
tal activit5\ He was an excellent 
mathematician, and had a large black- 
board in his studio on which he de- 
lighted to work out intricate prob- 



Universalism never had a more 
stalwart defender than the subject of 
our sketch. His vast erudition was 
always used to promulgate the doc- 
trines of this church, as he under- 
stood them. He was a leader of that 
wing of this denomination which be- 
lieves in a future paternal, disciplin- 
ary punishment of the wicked. In 
the defence of this cardinal doctrine, 
and of Universalism generally, he 
established the Christian Repository 
in 1820, and was its editor and pro- 
prietor for several years. Its name 
has been changed, and it is now 
owned by the Boston Publishing 
House, and is the leading paper in 
the denomination. 

The columns of the Repository were 
largelj^ occupied" with sermons while 
Mr. Loveland controlled it, and with 
the discussion of theological themes 
in which he took a prominent part. 
Nine bound volumes are now in the 
Vermont state library at Montpelier. 
In these volumes are twenty sermons 
preached by Mr. Loveland that are 
models of concise' statements, clear- 
cut arguments, and apt illustrations, 
and reveal an intimate knowledge of 
the sacred Scriptures. "Six Lec- 
tures on Important Subjects," deliv- 
ered in Bethel, Vt., were published 
in 1 8 19, and from time to time vari- 
ous other publications came from his 
prolific pen. They were all upon 
theological topics, and show him to 
be a man of ripe scholarship, and to 
have argumentative ability of a high 

As a preacher, Mr. Loveland lacked 
those qualities that go to make up the 
popular minister. His sermons were 
usually written, and were delivered 
without gestures, and in a slow, de- 
liberate manner. The average church- 

goer nowadays would pronounce his 
sermons " dull," for only a few in an 
average audience could appreciate 
the force of his logic, and the extent 
and variety of learning put into his 
pulpit discourses. He was a man of 
deep and powerful theological con- 
victions, and these convictions he 
preached on every important occa- 
sion. The following incident wnll 
illustrate this phase of his character. 

In the latter part of his active life 
he was in Gilsum over Sunday, and 
was invited to preach. The fact that 
a son of this town, of his scholarship 
and ability, was to preach attracted a 
large audience made up of those em- 
bracing various religious opinions. 
Most ministers would have preached 
a sermon upon some topic which all 
his hearers could approve, but not so 
with Mr. Loveland. He delivered 
his strongest doctrinal sermon, and 
thrust his sharpest darts at the ene- 
mies of Universalism. When nearly 
through with his discourse, he turned 
to his audience and expressed the 
pleasure it gave him to gaze once 
more upon the scenes of his child- 
hood, and to see the friends of his 
youth, and then referring to his ser- 
mon he closed it with these words, 
uttered wnth touching pathos : "These 
sentiments your humble servant has 
believed in and preached for many 
years. Were he to deliver anything 
else to you on this occasion, the very 
rocks and hills of this, the place of 
his nativity, would utter their con- 

All his life was spent in small, poor 
parishes, and only a few of his audi- 
tors appreciated the extent and va- 
riety of his learning. His salary was 
meager, and his family often lacked 
the ordinary necessities of life. It 



took the larger part of his income to 
supply his insatiable greed for books. 
Through a life of self-denial he accu- 
mulated a library of over three thou- 
sand volumes. In it were many curi- 
ous and rare books. He gave it by 
will to Canton university. 

Mr. IvOveland was greatly honored 
by his ministerial brethren, and many 

^ K^ 

Rev. Samuel C. Loveland. 

times he was invited to preach before 
them at the meetings of their associa- 
tions, or to act as their presiding ofh- 
cer. In June, 1827, he delivered the 
sermon before the New Hampshire 
Universalist association at Washing- 
ton, and was well known in this state 
and throughout Vermont, and in the 
east central portion of the state of 
New York. 

To meet his various appointments 
required a large amount of travel, 
and, remarkable as it may seem, these 
journeys were almost always made on 
foot. He was seemingly slow in his 
movements, and yet he often covered 

great distances in a day. When he 
was fifty years old he walked fift}^ 
miles, and once he went sixty miles 
on foot to preach the ordination ser- 
mon of one of his students. He was 
familiar with walking, both as an art 
and a science, and if alive now he 
might achieve fame as an instructor 
in pedestrianism. 

He never continued his studies late 
in the evening, always retiring at 
half-past nine. It was his custom 
not to light his lamp in the evening 
for study from a particular day in 
June until a certain day in Septem- 
ber, when he would relight it for 
evening study. 

While residing at Reading, Vt., 
Mr. Loveland was the recipient of 
political and judicial honors. Four 
years he was elected representative, 
three years he served as town clerk, 
and three years he was a member of 
the council of Vermont, an august 
body composed of twelve members 
elected on a general ticket by the 
voters of the entire state, and which 
in 1836 was superseded by the senate. 
In 1832 and 1833 he was assistant 
judge of the Windsor county court. 
The duties of these offices he dis- 
charged with great fidelit)^ and abil- 
ity, but it is evident that they were 
distasfeful to him. His happiest 
hours were spent in his study, in his 
ministerial duties, and in instructing 
his students. He fitted wholly or in 
part eight young men, who became 
Universalist ministers. Among the 
number was Rev. Dr. Thomas J. 
Sawyer, who was reared under the 
preaching and theological instruction 
of Mr. lyoveland, and who became 
one of the most eminent preachers 
and teachers of his denomination. 
He was a voluminous writer on re- 



ligious subjects, and for many years 
a professor in Tufts college. 

Another of his noted pupils was 
Rev. George Severance, who was for 
many years editor of Tlie Gospel Ban- 

The influence of Mr. Loveland was 
thus felt through the men he helped 
educate, and also b}^ his publications, 
long after his earthly existence had 
closed. His private and domestic 
life was without reproach. When 
thirty years old he married Eunice 
Stow, of Weston, Vt. Eight chil- 
dren were the result of this union. 

all of whom are now dead. Of the 
grandchildren living at the present 
time, two are engaged in business in 
Chicago, two are teachers in the pub- 
lic schools of that city, one is in the 
drug business at Burlington, Vt., and 
one is a music teacher in Boston, 

In the preparation of this sketch 
the writer is indebted to Gilbert A. 
Davis, Esq., for important facts taken 
from advance sheets of his History of 
Reading, Vt., and to Mrs. Esther E. 
Newman for personal recollections of 
her distinguished uncle. 



By Arthur IV. Hall. 

The bridal of the cloudland and the light 

Of every countless, variegated hue. 
Apotheosis grand ! How doth the sight 

With wonder and with rapture deep imbue ! 
Praise in its richest strophes is ninefold due 

To count th' horizon's glory, name its spell; 
No force can dim it, and no power construe. 

Fast striding dark can scarce its grandeur quell. 

And doth the selfsame light on Orient's shore 
Gleam thus resplendent over vale and sea, 

Castle or mountain, can it yield the more 
Than fullest measure here, to thee and me ? 

Doth utmost speech, or look, or music's strain 
Essay fit homage, there as here in vain? 


By George Williani Gray. 

T was Christmas eve and 

a wild blizzard was 

raging. The air was 

thick with the falling 

snow ; great drifts were 

piling up in places, and it was bitter 

cold. A night when even the boldest 

would shrink from venturing out. 

Angry gusts of wind howled 
around the dormitory of the Burton 
Theological seminary, as though in 
chagrin that the massive stone walls 
of the building withstood every ef- 
fort of the storm to tear them from 
their foundation. One of the rooms 
presented a pleasant contrast to the 
mad conflict of the elements without. 
A cheerful bed of coals glowed in the 
open grate and filled the room with 
genial warmth, and a student's lamp 
flooded with light the couch, with its 
heap of sofa pillows, fantastically 
wrought, and everything else in the 
apartment. It was the typical home 
of a student of moderate means, not 
richly furnished, but very cozy and 

Before a desk, littered with open 
books and miscellaneous papers, sat 
a student in listless attitude, his feet 
propped up on the desk before him, 
and his hands clasped behind his 
head. He had just finished trans- 
lating a difficult passage in Hebrew, 
and his work for the night and for 
the rest of Christmas week was done. 
A dreamy expression was in his blue 
eyes, and a faint smile slightly parted 
his lips. 

So busy was the student with his 
thoughts that he did not hear, above 
the rattle of the snow against his 
window, the sound of footsteps on 
the stairs and then along the hall- 
way. But when there came an 
emphatic pounding at his door, he 
started up and opened it. 

Before him stood a tall figure with 
its cap turned down and its coat col- 
lar turned up, and whose entire per- 
son was covered with snow. 

"Good evening, Greer," said a 
voice from the depths of cap and coat 
collar, "is there any such thing as a 
fire in here, that a man who is about 
frozen may warm himself by?" 

"John Williamson!" exclaimed 
the student in astonishment. "What 
on earth are you doing out here two 
miles from Burton City at this time 
of night?" 

" I have just come from Water- 
ville," answered Williamson, stamp- 
ing the snow from his feet and be- 
ginning to unbutton his coat. "On 
the way I lost the road in the storm 
and it took me over an hour to find it 
and get started right again." 

"Waterville! What took you out 
there in such a storm as this ? But 
never mind, you can tell me all about 
it later," and Greer helped the man 
to get off his snowy garments. Then 
he drew a Morris chair up towards 
the fire and his friend sank into it, 
rubbing his numb hands. He had 
not frozen any of his members, but 
he had been chilled and it was 



some time before he was comfort- 

Greer, in the meantime, drew his 
own chair up opposite and finally 
said : 

" Now then. Deacon, explain how 
you happen to be coming from 
Watervnlle in such a blizzard, when 
you ought to be asleep at St. John's 
rectory in Burton City ? And what 
made you try to walk back ? Whj^ 
did n't you stay at Waterville all 

Williamson rubbed his red, aching 
hands, but replied cheerfully : " Oh, 
I got word this afternoon that one of 
the mission people out there was ill 
and wanted me to come out to her. 
So I harnessed and went. It was 
snowing, but I had no trouble get- 
ting out, for the roads were not then 
blocked. I .stayed with the poor old 
lady until six o'clock, and then 
started home on foot, knowing that 
the horse could not haul the sleigh 
through the drifts. Perhaps it was a 
foolish venture for me to try to walk, 
but I thought I could make it. I 
wanted to get home in order to help 
at the evening prayer at St. John's, 
as I was expected to do. But I lost 
my way completely, and when I ar- 
rived here, it was more than four 
hours since I left Mrs. Smith's. 

" And here you are going to stay 
until morning," said Greer emphati- 

" Well, I do not object to that ; I 
have no desire to go on through such 
drifts and in such cold, now that my 
going would be of no special use." 
And the young clergyman lay back 
in the chair and gazed contentedly 
into the fire. He was strikingly 
handsome. His brow was broad, his 
dark gray eyes deep set and earnest, 

G. M.— 16 

and his mouth and chin strong. His 
face was serious for one of his j'cars, 

"Well, you had good courage, I 
must say, to try such a thing," ob- 
served Greer. 

" Oh, I rather enjoyed laboring 
along through the snow and going 
around drifts, until I lost my road 
and it became so cold. When the 
old dorm came in sight I tell you it 
was welcome. I knew you would 
take me in," said Williamson, with 
a smile. 

"Well, I guess." 

Williamson and Greer had been 
firm friends ever since their college 
days. When the latter entered upon 
his freshman year, the former had 
already been in college a year. From 
that time until Williamson had left 
the seminary they had been room- 
mates and inseparable chums. 
Greer was now left alone in his 
senior 5'ear at the seminary, and 
Williamson was serving his diacon- 
ate at St. John's church in Burton 
City, two miles distant. Although 
they were not so much together as 
formerly, thej^ still saw each other 

John Williamson was a man of 
rare character and abilities. In col- 
lege he had played half-back on the 
foot- ball team, and at commencement 
had been valedictorian for his class, a 
combination of talent which is not 
common. His life had been simple, 
sincere, and noble. Men liked and 
respected him, fully appreciating his 
good points, and had confidence in 
him. Nobody wondered when, at 
the end of his college days, he had 
entered the seminar5^ for everyone 
felt that the ministrj^ was the sphere 
of greatest usefulness for such a 



In the seminary, when men came 
to know him, John Williamson oc- 
cupied the same exalted position 
among the students. He worked 
hard and also found time for outside 
usefulness. At Waterville, five miles 
from the seminary, he had taken 
charge of a small mission, where a 
few people came together, on Sunday 
to worship. By his untiring efforts 
he had greatly increased the mem- 
bers of his congregation, and had in- 
spired them with somewhat of his own 
enthusiasm for the work. When he 
left the seminary and entered upon 
his diaconate at St. John's church, 
he kept on with his work in Water- 
ville. His heart and soul was given 
to the mission, and he was all in all 
to the simple people of his congre- 
gation. In this work his duties of 
deacon at St. John's did not hinder 

When the two men had been silent 
for some moments, Williamson sud- 
denly turned towards his old friend. 

" Greer," he said, " do you know 
that I am thinking seriously of be- 
coming a foreign missionary when I 
am ordained to priest's orders, and of 
going to Africa ?" 

" Nonsense," grunted Greer, im- 

" I am. A week ago I received a 
letter from my former rector who is 
now president of the board of African 
missions, and he asked me if I would 
like to undertake such a life. Some- 
body is to be sent just after Kaster. 
This appeals very strongly to me. 
Let me read you the letter." 

He drew it from his pocket. In it 
was a long description of the work of 
the missionary among the people of 
Central Africa. The conclusion was 
striking. It ran thus : 

I give you this call, my dear boy, because 
you are the one man who, I believe, is conse- 
crated enough to the Master's service to do this 
work. It is a noble work ! Yet the sacrifice 
you would make in accepting the call would be 
a great one, and one I do not urge upon you. 
If this seems to 3'ou a call from our Lord then 
there is but one course open to you, but only 
you can say whether or not it is such. 

When he had finished reading 
Williamson said, "I think I should 
be happy as a missionary. There is 
great need of men in the mission 
field. I have no relatives to live for 
and to hold me here, and I am not so 
sure that this is not a call from 

But Greer waved his head impa- 
tiently. "For you to think of such 
a thing is madness, Williamson," he 
said, with emphasis. 

" Why so," asked the young dea- 
con, quietly. 

" Well, in the first place there are 
plenty of opportunities right here in 
America for you to do great good, 
and in the second place there are 
plenty of men who will be glad to go 
out there and who are better fitted 
for the work than you are." 

" That has nothing to do with the 
case ; the fact is that it has been of- 
fered to me and not to one of those 

" But you would be throwing your 
life away ! You have the education 
and the ability to do a great deal as 
a parish priest and a preacher. Al- 
ready your sermons are attracting at- 

" My dear Greer," began William- 
son gravely, " it is not preachers that 
the church needs to-day but apostles ; 
men who will not let their own de- 
sires or their own comforts stand be- 
tween them and duty ; men who will 
obey the lyord's mandate to give up 



all and follow Him. To follow Him 
is to sacrifice self as He did. I have 
dreamed of such a life myself, and 
now that it is offered me, I am 
strongly inclined to accept it." 

" Then you have not decided ?" 

" No. I have several things to 
consider before I can answer yes or 

" I sincerely hope you will think 
it over very carefully before you do 

"I shall, you may be sure. And 
now I think I will retire. The clock 
is striking twelve and I am somewhat 
fatigued . " , 

Greer arose and began winding up 
his alarm clock. 

"Communion in the chapel at 
5:30," he said. "Shall I call 

" Yes," answered the clergyman. 


All was dark and still cloudy when 
the solemn tolling of the chapel bell 
sounded forth upon the stillness of 
the early morning. Within the 
chapel a few candles flashed on the 
altar and the chancel was lighted, 
but the rest of the interior was dark. 
The students filed in, and the sweet 
and inspiring tones of the organ rang 
through the place. The chaplain 
entered the chancel, knelt a moment 
in silent prayer, and then slowly and 
impressively began the beautiful com- 
munion service. 

Williamson remained on his knees 
as the others went out. Greer, who 
felt that his friend wished to be alone, 
left him there. In the quiet of the 
house of prayer Williamson remained 
for a long time. When he finally 
arose, a faint light was stealing in at 
the eastern window. The clouds 

had scattered and the sky was clear.. 
In the chapel where he had knelt sa 
often, as the breaking dawn of Christ- 
mas day smiled upon the earth, he 
resolved to become a missionary. 

Williamson did not stay to break- 
fast with Greer. He said he thought 
he would go home at once, as the 
roads were already being broken. 
The truth was that he wished to be 
alone and to think. 

Next day Greer received a letter in 
the well-known handwriting. He 
tore it open at once and read : 

My Dear Greer :— I have decided to go. I. 
am now sure that this is a divine call, and I 
can not, therefore, refuse to accept. I shall' 
grieve to part from yon and my many pleasant 
associations here, but I am thankful, too, that 
it is my privilege to bear even a slight cross for 
His sake, and thus follow in His steps. Well,, 
we shall be together for six months more. 
Faithfully yours, 

John Williamson. 

Greer read the letter slowly and' 
then gazed thoughtfully out of the 
window upon the snowy world. 

" I knew that it would be so," he 
said aloud, and then, "God help me 
to be more like him." 


A glorious May morning. The 
sun rose in a cloudless sky and shone 
down on green and flower}^ fields. 
Everywhere was heard the songs of 
birds. It was the day on which John 
Williamson was to sail. He had ac- 
cepted the offer of the mission work 
a few days after Christmas, and for 
six months had been preparing for 
the voyage and his future life. 

When he had announced his inten- 
tion of giving his life as a missionary 
in Africa, all who knew him were 
surprised beyond measure. The stu- 
dents of the Burton seminary, the 



members of St. John's church, and 
the Waterville people expressed great 
regret that he was to leave them. 
The rector ot St. John's, when he 
heard of Williamson's determination, 
could scarcely credit his own ears. 
He had entertained great hopes for 
his young deacon's future, and he 
felt that the latter was making a mis- 
take in undertaking such a career. 
Everyone agreed with him, and 
everyone tried to persuade the young 
man to change his mind, that is, 
everyone except Greer. He had 
talked much with Williamson during 
those six months, concerning the lat- 
ter's accepted work, and had finally 
come to agree with him that it was 
his duty to go. He was himself 
much influenced by his old friend's 
splendid example of self-consecra- 
tion, and far from condemning him, 
he honored him for it. It had been 
settled that he was to serve his own 
diaconale in St. John's, and he had 
promised to go on with his friend's 
work in Waterville. 

On the way to the steamship wharf 
the two men said but little. They 
were busy with the sad thought of 
Williamson's near departure, and 
their feelings would not admit of 
much conversation. The departing 
missionary had said farewell to all 
his friends except this one old com- 
panion of his college days, his more 
than brother, and there remained 
only the painful duty of bidding him 
good-by. The last moments of Will- 
iamson's stay in America were to be 
spent with Greer alone. 

They went on board the steamship 
two hours before she was to sail. 
Then for a long time the two walked 
up and down the deck together, dis- 
cussing matters that had to do with 

the work Williamson was leaving 
behind in his friend's hands and that 
to which he was going. 

Suddenly Greer stood still and 
looked into his companion's eyes 
with a yearning look in his own. 

"My God, John," he said earn- 
estly, "I can not realize that after 
all we have been through together, 
we are parting to-day forever." 

"We may not be, George," re- 
plied Williamson. "Some strange 
fate may throw us together some day. 
Do you know I have a strong pre- 
sentiment that we shall meet again." 

"I pray that it may be so. But 
you can not know what a void your 
going leaves in vny life." 

" Hush, man, you have your work 
to do as I have mine. Give your- 
self entirely to it, and you will soon 
get over missing me." 

" I will try and be faithful, but I 
shall never cease to miss you," was 
the sad reply. 

It seemed to the young men that a 
half hour had hardly elapsed since 
they came on board when the great 
bell on the ship began to boom and 
a sailor came along and shouted for 
all to go ashore who were not to 

The supreme moment had come for 
the two friends. They clasped hands 
fervently and gazed for a moment 
into each other's eyes. Neither could 
keep back the tears, for theirs was a 
sincere and great grief. 

"Good-by, Williamson, good-by," 
said Greer in a broken voice, " May 
God bless you." 

" Good-by, my dear friend, I shall 
never forget you." 

They held hands a moment after 
that, and then Greer broke away and 
rushed on shore just as the gang 



plank was being loosened to be drawn 

The fasts were cast off, the tiny 
tug began to wheeze and puff, and 
the great Shaster slowl)^ swung out 
from the pier and swept majestically- 
down the baj^ An hour later the 
open sea having been reached, the 
tug line was drawn in, the tug came 
about, and the steamship continued 
on her way alone. 

As the Shaster steamed along, 
slowly rising and falling in the long 
swell of the Atlantic, Williamson 
stood on the deck and devoured with 
his eyes the fast fading shores of 
America. Gradually they assumed 
the appearance of a faint line, and 
finally were swallowed up in the mist 
that was rising from the ocean. Then 
John Williamson turned sadly away, 
and went to his state-room with the 
words in his heart: "For Christ's 

At long intervals letters came from 
the missionary to Greer, letters long 
and interesting, telling in glowing 
language about his work and the 
people amongst whom he lived. 
Then came a silence. Greer wrote 
again and again, but a year passed 
and still no word came to him from 
the Dark Continent. Two years. 
Greer was now settled over a large 
parish not far from Burton City. He 
was doing his utmost and his was a 
wide usefulness. His complete 
abandonment of self to his vocation 
had attracted much comment. Men 
held him up as the example of a min- 
ster of God and a man. 

But the rector of St. Mary's was 
filled with a vague unrest when two 
3'ears had been passed bringing no 

word from Williamson. Finally he 
decided upon an extraordinary course 
of action. He asked leave of absence 
for six months and obtained it. 


Over the burning sand of a small 
bit of desert country far to the north 
of the Transvaal, a great covered 
wagon drawn by four oxen was plod- 
ding along with a loud rattling and 
creaking of wheels. A naked Hot- 
tentot sat on the .seat and guided the 
team, from time to time urging on the 
sleepy animals with a long whip 
of hippopotamus hide. A dozen well 
armed Kafirs walked along beside 
the wagon, and to the rear of all a 
white man rode seated on a small 
black horse. 

A week before George Greer had 
arrived at Assagai, a native village on 
the frontier, in search of his friend. 
He had learned of a native of the 
town that seven days' journey to the 
north was a Zulu settlement where 
dwelt a white father, a young man. 
He had himself seen the father only 
six months previous when he had 
been to the Zulu village. After con- 
siderable negotiation, the black man 
consented to guide Greer to the abode 
of the white missionary whom the 
young minister felt must be William- 
son. Accordingly, the impatient man 
hastily purchased an African wagon, 
oxen, a horse, provisions, and hired 
an escort of Kafirs. He set out at 

Since earlj^ morning the part)^ had 
traveled through the desert. Now, 
just after noon, the sand was begin- 
tiing to merge far ahead into a more 
verdant plain, dotted here and there 
with dwarfish trees. On the horizon a 
low ridge of mountains loomed up blue 



in the distance. As they passed from 
the sand of the desert to the grassy 
country, the caravan halted and man 
and beast rested for a time and drank 
from a spring that happened to be at 

When they once more resumed the 
tnonotonous march, the horseman 
Tode up to the Kafirs who led the line 
of black warriors. 

" Tonga," he said " how near are 
"we now to the village of the white 

The black raised his arm and 
pointed to the mountains. " On this 
side of the blue hills is a green valley 
where a small river laughs over a bed 
of stones. There is the village of the 
black men and the white father. To- 
night we sleep in the plain, and to- 
morrow we are in the green valley. 
I have spoken." 

"To-morrow! that is well," said 
Oreer joyfully. 

' ' You love the white father. Baas ? ' ' 
asked the black. 

" Yes, Tonga, I do, and I have not 
seen him for many moons." 

" Is he your brother. Baas ? " 

"Yes," replied Greer solemnly, 
" he is my brother." 

At noon next day the party had 
arrived on the crest of a gentle rise of 
ground. Beyond them the country 
sloped down into a valley, the other 
side of which rose the wall of the 
mountains. A mile down the valley 
a cloud of smoke was lazily rising 
over a large area of thatched-roofed 
liuts. The white man took all this 
in with his eyes. As he gazed, he 
felt a touch on his arm. 

" The green valley. Baas, and the 
village of the white father," said 

' ' Yes, ' ' said Greer joyfully, ' ' come, 

let us hurry, man. He put spurs to his 
horse and cantered towards the huts, 
the fleet-footed Kafir following close 
at his horse's heels. As they dashed 
up to the nearest of the houses, a 
number of men and women came run- 
ning out to meet them. A tall, finely 
formed man asked something in his 
own language which Greer, of course, 
did not understand. Tonga answered, 
and then the two held a short conver- 
sation. After a few words the Zulu 
pointed back towards the village and 
shook his head mournfully saying 
something sadly. Greer, who was 
watching him closely, was filled with 
a great dread. 

" What does he say, Tonga ; is not 
the white father here ? ' ' 

" Yes, Baas, but he struggles with 
the demon of the marsh since three 

"Great God, the marsh fever?" 
asked Greer in horror. He had heard 
of this dreadful and fatal malaria fever 
from the natives of Assagai, who called 
it " the demon of the marsh." They 
had told him that it was not conta- 
gious, but that a person seldom re- 
covered from it. Williamson ill with 
the marsh fever ! He could not en- 
dure the thought. 

" Tell him to take me to him at once, 
Tonga ; tell him I am the white father's 
brother and came from beyond the 
seas to find him." 

When Tonga had translated his 
words to the Zulu, the latter turned 
and led the way in among the huts. 
In the center of the village was a 
cleared space of half an acre. Here 
a long pole was planted firmly in the 
ground, surmounted by a wooden 
cross beautifully wrought. Beyond 
this space was a hut, much larger and 
more substantial than the surround- 



ing hovels. Towards this hut the 
Zuki led the way. A youth sat be- 
fore the door. 

" Does he sleep ? " asked Greer's 
guide of the youth. 

" Yes, he sleeps." 

"Will you go in, Baas?" asked 
Tonga, when he had told Greer what 
the youth had said. 

" Yes, I will," replied Greer hastily. 

With a beating heart and face pal- 
lid as death, he followed the young 
black who arose and softly led the way 
into the hut. All was dark within, 
but as his eyes were accustomed to 
the gloom, Greer was able to make 
out a low couch against the wall to 
the left. On it lay a figure with its 
faced turned towards him. Quickly 
he bent forward and dropped on his 
knees, the better to behold the 
face of the sick man. The latter' s 
hair was long and he had a full 
beard. Moreover, his face was ema- 
ciated and hectic with fever, but one 
look was enough for George Greer ; 
the sick man was his friend John 
Williamson. With a suppressed 
groan, Greer covered his face with his 

He remained in this position for a 
long time. When he at last rose to 
his feet, he found the black boy still 
standing b}' the foot of the couch. 

The boy motioned him to the only 
seat in the hut, and he sank into it 
and leaned his head on his hands in 
miser5^ For many hours he sat 
there. The Zulu boy brought him 
food, but he could not eat. He could 
onl}^ gaze at the sleeping figure and 
wonder if Williamson would ever 
recognize him again, for he knew 
that his beloved friend was djdng. 

It was late in the night. The 
young Zulu had fallen asleep on the 

floor at the foot of the bed. Greer 
still sat and waited, and watched, and 
hoped, and prayed that Williamson 
w^ould wake to consciousness. 

Suddenly there was a slight move- 
ment of the man. In a moment the 
bo}'' was on his feet and so was Greer. 
The latter bent over the bed and 
gazed into his friend's face. Joyfully 
he saw him open his eyes. 

" Water," came in a gasp and in 
English from his lips. 

Gently Greer raised the sick man's 
head from the bed and gave him water. 
Then he said, softly, " lyook at me 
John and tell me if you know me." 

The eyes bright with fever looked 
at him who bent over him. 

"George Greer, is it you who 
speak ? " he asked faintly. 

'• Yes, it is George Greer." 

" Then God be praised," said the 
dying man in a scarcely audible voice. 
" I prayed that I might see you again 
in the flesh and my prayer is answered, 
though you have come in the hour of 

Greer pressed the emaciated hand 
he held. He knew that his friend's 
words were true. 

" I am glad that I have found you 
even at the last and that you know 
me," he said brokenly. 

" I have been happy in my work. I 
have taught the truth to these black 
children, and I can die happy." 

He closed his eyes and seemed to 
sleep for some moments. Then a 
shudder passed through his entire 
body and he awoke again. Greer 
placed his arm carefull}- under the 
dying man's head and raised it a 
trifle. Williamson's breath came in 
short gasps, but he smiled as he rec- 
ognized Greer again. 

' ' I have — tried — to fight — the good 



— fight," he whispered, " and — to 
— keep — the — faith. Good-by, dear 
friend — till we — meet — again — in Par- 
adise." His head lay perfectly quiet 
on Greer's arm and his eyes closed. 
His soul had gone to his Master. 

When the sun rose next day, the 
white father was laid, by the sorrow- 
ing blacks, in a grave dug in the 
green valley under a great palm tree. 
With a calmness that he himself 
hardly understood, George Greer 
had read the burial service over his 
dead friend's body. At the head of 
that grave the white cross that had 

surmounted the pole in the open-air 
church was planted. 

"A fitting symbol of his life and 
character," said Greer as he turned 
sadly away from the spot. Three 
weeks later he was back to his work 
in America. 

When the wintry winds blow and 
the snow beats against his windows, 
the Rev. George Greer's thoughts go 
back to that Christmas eve when he 
was a senior in the seminary and then 
to that lonely grave in the heart of 
Africa, where lies all that is earthly 
of an apostle, a martyr, and a saint of 
the Christian faith. 


William Ruthtien Fiiii/. 

O Eamp of Eove I Thou glorious Evening Star, 
That thro' the gathering gloom of darkness gleamest ! 
Bright Eye of brooding Night, that ever seemest 
To watch the wide world's doings from afar, 
Until, behind yon high hilltops that are 
O'er-crowned with mists of eve at their extremest 
Summits, to close thy weary lids thou seemest 
It time, and sink to rest ; O Evening Star, 

Shine thou in pity on the lost and strayed, 
Wandering in soul-darkness 'neath thy steady ray. 
Eight of the twilight hour since light began, 
Soothe with thy chastened glow the toil of day ; 
Cleanse from their hearts, with worldly cares bewrayed, 
The inhumanities of man to man. 

By George Bancroft Griffith. 

All ! this is the path to the stone- circled well, 

The path to my infancy dear, 
And no language of mine can rightfully tell 

Of the joy that it gives to be here. 
In the springtime of life the most charming of all 

The spots which I barefooted trod. 
Was the way to the well, where I often let fall 

The bucket that swayed o'er the sod. 

The fern-bordered curb, the moss-covered curb, 

The sweep rising high o'er its frame. 
What day-dreams there held that naught could disturb, - 

A resting place precious to name ! 
What boughs, ever fruitful, hung over the place, 

How sweetly sang morning birds near, 
And daily was mirrored a happy boy's face 

Where the still waters glistened so clear ! 

Oh, pure to the taste in that valley most fair. 

From the depths of the spring sunk below. 
The thirst- quenching sweets that unfailingly there 

My father's old well did bestow. 
No tour afar and no scene could efface 

The prospect oft meeting my gaze. 
Nor the richest of vintage the flavor displace 

That my lips knew in youth's early days. 

And now I'm at home ! I'm treading again 

The path to that humble old well ; 
Though age is upon it to batter and stain, 

It is sacred, my shrine in the dell. 
Every bough that swings over its rock-girdled brim 

Now whispers of home and its love ; 
Every bird that flies near sings a beautiful hymn, 

And the sky smiles serenely above. 

^ ff ^ ff 


Winthrop Norris Dow, born in Epping, April 9, 1828, died in Exeter, September 
8, 1903. 

Colonel Dow was the son of Moses and Nancy (Sanborn) Dow, and a descend- 
ant of Henry Dow, who settled in Hampton in 1643 o'' 1644, and became an influ- 
ential citizen, but Epping had been the family home since his great-grandfather, 
Benaiah, removed there from Kensington. Colonel Dow was educated in Epping 
schools and at Pembroke academy, where he was the room and classmate of the 
late ex-Governor Benjamin F. Prescott. 

He began his business career as a clerk in a Northwood store, where he re- 
mained for two years. He then opened a general store in West Epping, which he 
successfully conducted until 1874, when he sold out and went to Exeter. He 
early engaged in lumbering, and for nearly forty years this had been his principal 
business. His operations in New Hampshire and Maine had been large, the firm 
of Dow & Burley at one time operating seven mills. He had latterly been asso- 
ciated with his son under the firm name of W. N. Dow & Son, but for a few years 
past had been curtailing his personal operations. 

He was a director of the Exeter water-works and the Exeter Banking company, 
and a trustee and vice-president of the Union Five Cents' Savings bank. He was a 
zealous and influential Republican. Epping, during his residence, being a Demo- 
cratic stronghold, he held no office there. He was county treasurer in i874-'78, 
and in 1882 was appointed to serve the unexpired term of George E. Lane. He 
was one of Exeter's representatives in i878-'8o. He gained his ^itle as aide-de- 
camp on Governor Natt Head's staff. This appointment came to him unexpect- 
edly at the suggestion of the late Gen. Oilman Marston. During his service, 
with the governor and fellow members of the staff, he made a very enjoyable trip 
to New Orleans, probably the longest ever made by a governor of New Hamp- 
shire and his military aids. In i888-'92 Colonel Dow was a special railroad com-- 
missioner for the Boston & Maine. He was serving his second seven-year term as 
a trustee of Robinson seminary. He had served on the school committee and was 
a member of the original committee of three appointed thirteen years ago to ex- 
pend $40,000 in the macadamization of Exeter's streets. 

He was a Mason, being a member of Sullivan lodge of Epping, St. Albans 
chapter and Olivet council of Exeter, of which he was a charter member, and of 
De Witt Clinton commandery of Portsmouth. He was a prominent member of the 
New Hampshire club of Boston, and was the first president of the Exeter Sports- 
men's club, which recently celebrated its 25th anniversary. 

Colonel Dow leaves a wife, a son. Gen. Albert N. Dow, and two daughters. 
Misses Annie M. and Florence Dow. He was the last of his own family. 



Isaac D. Merrill, born in Hopkinton, October 1, 1814, died in that town Sep- 
tember 2, 1903. 

During his childhood Mr. Merrill lived with his parents in Hillsborough, but at 
the age of fourteen he returned to Contoocook and learned the clothier's trade with 
the late Joab N. Patterson, afterwards going again to Hillsborough for a time, 
thence to Weare, and later to Deering, but returning to Contoocook in 1841, where 
he located in trade and accumulated a handsome property, being the heaviest tax- 
payer in the town of Hopkinton. He was a Democrat in politics, and was town 
treasurer for more than thirty years from 1848. He was postmaster from 1853 to 
1861, and represented Hopkinton in the legislature in 1854 and 1856. He did a 
large business as justice of the peace and in the settlement of estates for many 
years. He was never married. 


George Warner Weeks, born in Boscawen, August 12, 1824, died in Manches- 
ter, September 10, 1903. 

In his boyhood Mr. Weeks worked in a harness shop at Hooksett, but went to 
Manchester in 1839, from whence he went, soon after, on a voyage to Calcutta. 
After following a seafaring life for two years, a vessel on which he was a cabin 
boy took fire and burned to the water's edge, and the crew took refuge on the 
island of St. Helena. Returning to America, Mr. Weeks settled in Manchester, 
and for many 5'ears was employed as a school teacher. He engaged in the shoe 
business subsequently, and made a fortune. He was a member of Lafayette lodge, 
Mt. Horeb chapter, Adoniram council, and Trinity commandery of the Masonic 
fraternity, and was past grand of Mechanics lodge of Odd Fellows, past grand 
master of the New Hampshire grand lodge, and had been representative to the 
Sovereign grand lodge of the United States. He was a member of the Unitarian 
church, and had been president of its society. He leaves a wife and one daugh- 
ter, Mrs. Alonzo Elliot, and one son, George Perley Weeks, of Haverhill, Mass. 


John G. Jewett, born in Meredith (now Laconia), September 4, 1829, died in 
Laconia, September 16, 1903. 

He was the sixth son of Smith and Statira (Glines) Jewett, his grandfather, 
Samuel Jewett, being the first permanent settler in Laconia on the east side of the 

He attended the public schools of Meredith Bridge and Gilford academy, and 
after completing his education he taught school in the vicinity for ten years. In 
1855 he went to South America as a gold hunter, returning in March, 1857. He 
was employed for eight years in the Laconia car shops, and in 1876 was appointed 
iudge of the Laconia police court, a position he filled with dignity and justice for • 
sixteen years. 

In 1891 he resigned and was appointed postmaster by President Harrison. He 
resigned the postmastership in May, 1895, and since that time had been retired 


from public life. Besides these two positions, Judge Jewett had held numerous 
other offices, both town and county. He was register of probate for two years, 
was a selectman of Gilford for three years, was collector of taxes in 1859, and in 
1863 was recruiting officer for the town of Gilford. He was in the New Hamp- 
shire legislature in 1867 ^"<^ 1868, was a member of the Laconia board of educa- 
tion for twelve years, and was superintendent of the school committee in Gilford 
back in 1858. 

In December, 1855, he married Caroline E. Shannon, a native of Barnstead. 
One of their children is Hon. Stephen S. Jewett of Laconia, late speaker of the 
New Hampshire house of representatives. Judge Jewett had been a Freemason 
for nearly forty years, having joined Mt. Lebanon lodge in 1864, and he was a 
past master of that lodge. He was also a member and past officer of Union chap- 
ter, and belonged to Pilgrim commandery, Knights Templar. In religious affairs 
he was affiliated with the Congregationalists, and in politics he was always a 
staunch Republican. 


David Arthur Brown, born in Attleboro, Mass., May 4, 1839, died ^t Penacook, 
September 9, 1903. 

Mr. Brown was a descendant on the paternal side of Peter Brown, who came 
over from England in the Mayflinvcr in 1620. On his mother's side he was a de- 
scendant in the ninth generation of John Daggett, who came to this country with 
Governor Winthrop in 1630. The family came to Penacook in 1843, and Mr. 
Brown had resided there ever since. He attended the public schools in that 
place, and in 1854 entered the New London Literary and Scientific institute, re- 
maining there two years. He then entered the piano factory of Liscom, Dearborn 
& Co. in Concord as an apprentice, but remained there only a year, returning to 
New London for another year in school. He was then engaged in the repair shop 
of the Penacook mill until 1861. 

At the opening of the war in 1861 Mr. Brown enlisted in the Third New Hamp- 
shire volunteers for three years and served throughout the war. Mr. Brown had 
always been a musician of note, and soon after enlisting as a first-class musician 
he was commissioned a band leader by the governor. 

Soon after his return from the army Mr. Brown fitted up a repair shop in the 
Contoocook mill and performed the work for that corporation for some time. Later 
he went into business under the firm name of A. B. Winn & Co., doing general 
work. After the death of Mr. Winn Mr. Brown continued the business himself 
and began the manufacture of axles for the Concord wagons. In this line he be- 
came well known all over the country. Since 1880 the business has been con- 
ducted by the Concord Axle company, of which Mr. Brown was the leading spirit. 

Mr. Brown was a member of the Baptist church, and had always been inter- 
ested in Sunday-school work. He was a member of William I. Brown post. No. 31, 
G. A. R., and was its first junior vice-commander. He had been a representative 
to the department encampment many years, and for three administrations was 
on the staff of the national commander. He was one of the organizers of the 
Third Regiment association, and for twenty years was the most prominent band 
leader in the state. He was also a member of the New Hampshire club of Boston, 
the New England Iron and Hardware association and the National Carriage Build- 
ers' association, as well as many other social and fraternal organizations, including 
the Masons. 

On December 23, 1864, Mr. Brown was married to Susan Malvina Follansbee, 
by whom he had one son, Henry Arthur Brown, who is now employed as assistant 
superintendent at the Concord Axle Works. 






















The Granite Monthly. 

Vol. XXX \'. 

NOVEMBER, 1903. 

No. r,. 



By Frances M. Abbott. 

^^^^^ F a visitor to Concord 
i^er^ should take the electric 
(^ cars down South street, 
on his way to Rollins 
park or the state fair 
grounds, he would probably notice 
an attraciive yellow house with 
white trimmings, all gables and 
piazzas, with some fine elm trees and 
a large lot of land to the south. 
There is nothing about the place 
to suggest anything but a private 
residence, except that the building is 
rather larger than most Concord 
homes. The visitor would probably 
be greatly surprised when told that 
this sunshiny dwelling shelters one of 
Concord's many noted public insti- 
tutions, perhaps the unique one of 
them all. The Woman's Hospital, 
so called, is the only one of its kind, 
so far as the writer knows, north of 
Boston. In fact, its exact duplicate 
cannot be found anywhere in the 

It was in 1895 that Dr. Julia Wal- 
lace-Russell, who has now (1903) 
just completed her first quarter of a 
century of successful practice in Con- 
cord and vicinit}^ began to send out 
circular letters to philanthropic people, 
calling attention to the fact that there 
was no hospital in the state where 

needy women who could not afford to 
pay for a private physician could be 
treated by one of their own sex. The 
letter proposed establishing an insti- 
tution in Concord for that special pur- 
pose. It seemed a daring thing to 
do. Concord already had an excel- 
lent institution, the Margaret Pills- 
bury General Hospital, inadeqnently 
endowed and with an insufficient 
number of patients (both these condi- 
tions since then have happily been 
changed), whose expensive building 
was a sort of white elephant on the 
town. It seemed the height of fool- 
ishness to start even a small competi- 
tor on the long struggle for existence. 
But Dr. Wallace- Russell had faith, 
and she had some firm friends, many 
of them outside of Concord, who saw 
the need as she saw it. 

On September 12, 1895, "The 
Woman's Hospital Aid Association " 
was duly incorporated, and an organ- 
ization effected with the following 
officers : President, Miss Mary Ann 
Downing, Concord ; vice-presidents, 
Mrs. Louisa F. Richards. Newport, 
Dr. Ellen A. Wallace, Manchester ; 
recording secretary, Mrs. Caroline 
R. Thyng, Eaconia ; corresponding 
secretary and treasurer, Dr. 
Wallace- Russell ; auditor, Mrs . 



M. Conn, Concord. Five of these of which $2,000 was secured by a 

women, all but Mrs. Conn, were the mortgage. A few changes were 

original incorporators. made in the house, and on October 

Money began to come in and dur- 10, only seven years ago, the first 

ing the course of a year the corpora- patient was admitted. Others soon 

tion had collected $5,000. Then came and in a few months it was seen 

came a severe blow. Mrs. Vasta M. that the building must be enlarged 

Mary Ann Downing. 
First President. 

Abbott, a childless widow living at 
66 South street, was intending to 
give her home for the hospital ; but 
her sudden death occurred before the 
will had been drawn. The place, 
however, seemed so desirable for the 
purpose that the trustees, on Septem- 
ber 23, 1896, purchased the property, 
paying therefor the sum of $7,000, 

and remodelled. On May 10, 1897, 
the trustees voted to do this, and the 
following summer the building was 
closed and the changes were made at 
an expense of $9,000. In August 
the hospital was re-opened, and from 
that day on its good work has been 
continuous. During the seven years 
of its existence, up to September i, 



1903, the hospital has treated 641 
patients, but no statistics can meas- 
ure the good that it has done. 

No finer philanthropic work is 
going on to-day than the establish- 
ment of hospitals, and new ones are 
being opened every month in different 
parts of the country ; but most of 
these are institutions. There are re- 
strictions, routine, and red tape, al- 
most of necessity. The first thought 
anyone, whether visitor or patient, 
expresses upon entering the N. H. 
Memorial Hospital, is an exclamation 
of surprise. ' ' Why, this is a home ! ' ' 
The small size, the coziness, the 
varied shape of the rooms, the pic- 
tures on the walls, the sunny interior, 
whose general effect is all white and 
yellow, the fact that all the officers 
and attendants are women, the chil- 
dren's toys, even the fluffy cat oc- 
casionally patrolling the corridor, all 
contribute to the homelikeness. 

No part of our domestic life has 
been so changed by scientific pro- 
gress as the treatment of the sick. 
There are people now living who can 
remember when the only time a 
"nurse," so called, appeared in the 
house was when a good Aunt Some- 
body, frequently a spinster relative of 
the family, came at the time of the birth 
of the children. This excellent woman 
literally substituted /;/ loco parentis. 
She did the work of the house, 
washed and baked, and incidentally 
cared for the patient, — all this for her 
board and a dollar a week. At the 
present day we often hear sneers at 
the quality of this old-time nursing, 
also at the ability of the neighborhood 
' ' watchers ' ' who sat up with the 
dying sufferer ; but this was the only 
kind of service that would have been 
practicable in a farming community. 

and we were all farmers a hundred 
years ago. 

Of recent years trained nursing has 
become a profession, and has at- 
tained a high degree of proficiency ; 
but unfortunately domestic life has 
not advanced correspondingly. It is 
very difficult for the average house- 
hold to ' ' live up " to the requirements 
of a trained nurse. In the first place, 
the expense is enormous. No trained 
nurse in Concord on a private case 
receives less than $15.00 a week and 
some of them get $18.00 and even 
$21.00. The nurse comes into the 
family as a boarder, and the house is 
expected to do her washing, which 
latter custom never should have be- 
come established. But this is not all. 
The nurse, coming from a hospital, 
is used to every kind of scientific 
appliance and patent preparation, 
things that the average household 
has never heard of, and her requests 
for supplies keep somebody running 
to the drug store most of the time. 
To all this add the doctor's bills, and 
it is obvious that a family in moderate 
circumstances, and b}' this is not nec- 
cesarily meant a laborer's household, 
but the families whose bread-winner 
is a minister, school-teacher, bank or 
railroad clerk, newspaper man, in 
fact, almost everybody working on a 
salary, cannot stand the expense for 
many weeks at a time. 

The tendency of all this is obvious. 
We cannot do without trained nurs- 
ing at the present day ; but the highly 
specialized nurse requires a highly 
specialized environment. In other 
words, her proper place is in a hospi- 
tal, where everything is built for her 
special needs and where she does the 
noblest sort of work. 

Nothing better symbolizes modern 



Ellen A. Wallace, M. D. 

science and philauilirophy ihau the 
hospitals of the last ten years. A 
generation ago people looked upon a 
hospital as a sort of a cross between 
a jail and a poor house. It would 
have been thought disgraceful to per- 
mit a member of a well-to-do family 
to be carried to one. Antiseptic sur- 
gery, perhaps more than any other 
agency, has changed all this. A 
dozen years ago or more surgeons be- 
gan to see that even the most luxuri- 
ous private house was no place for an 

operation. The most competent sur- 
geons and nurses were hampered out- 
side of a regular operating- room ^ 
properly constructed and sterilized. 
The logic of the situation was evident. 
Since you cannot bring the operating- 
room to the patient, carry the patient 
to the operating-room. Build hospi- 
tals that will have every comfort as 
well as every scientific appointment, 
and then you can treat the rich as 
well as the poor. The result is seen 
in the beautiful buildings, thoroughly 



Julia Wallace-Russell, M. D. 
Physicia n - in - Ch a rge. 

equipped, going up in every section 
of our broad land. 

But only a woman's brain and 
heart could have conceived the pres- 
ent hospital. To Dr. Wallace-Rus- 
sell belongs the honor, not of erecting 
a great brick building with wide, 
bare corridors and windows whose 
shades have to be reached by a step 
ladder, but of taking a home, keep- 
ing it a home, never allowing it to 
lose the home look, yet fitting it up 
with all hospital appliances as a 

haven of rest for weary, suffering 

The idea has sometimes got abroad 
that the present hospital is intended 
chiefly for needy patients. Such is 
not the case. Science knows no dis- 
tinction between the rich, the poor, 
and those of moderate means. As 
a matter of fact many of the patients 
have been women of large means and 
the highest social connections. By 
far the larger number have belonged 
to what are called the better classes. 











One patient was commiserated by her 
friends at the opening of summer be- 
cause she could not go out of town, 
as had been her custom. "I want 
you to understand," she said, "that 
I find the table and the society here 
quite as good as at the average sum- 
mer resort." 

Few people realize how difficult it 
is for a busy woman, the mother of a 
family, to be sick in her own house. 
Domestic cares attend her even to her 
■dying hours. " Oh, the rest and the 
peace here!" sighed one grateful 
patient. " Nobody can come shriek- 
ing into my room with ' The ginger- 
bread has fallen ! ' ' The pies have all 
run out into the oven ! ' ' That new 
washerwoman has scorched a great 
place in your best tablecloth! ' If I 
hear the crash of falling dishes now, 
it is not my best china that is 

A wealthy woman, mother of a 
large family, mistress of a big house, 
whose guest rooms a large circle of 
friends rarely allow to remain empty, 
said to the writer, ' ' You do not know 
how like heaven this place looks to 
me ! I am up and dressed. I am able 
to keep on my feet. I do not know 
that I have any especial disease, but 
I believe I would give half my income 
if I could drop everything, get away 
from my family and friends and just 
come here for three months and rest. 
Just to be free from ordering the 
meals, never to have a thought when 
the door-bell rings, not even to have 
to keep the hour of the day in mind, 
but to have everything brought at 
the proper time as if by magic — I 
should feel as if I had been trans- 
lated ! " 

The patient comes to the hospital, 
sometimes in a hack, sometimes in 

the ambulance, is greeted by the 
superintendent, undressed and put to 
bed by a nurse, and henceforth is but 
a passenger on a well officered ship. 
After the medical orders for the time 
being have been carried out, a cord 
with an electric attachment is put into 
the patient's hand, and she is left 
alone, freed from any responsibility, 
assured of attendance at the proper 

Ferdinand A. Stillings, M. D. 

times, and able at anj^ moment to 
summon any kind of service, simply 
by pressing a button. 

" I feel so safe here," women often 
sa3^ " If I were at home, I should 
hesitate to call up the nurse at night 
unless I were in great distress ; but 
here is a night nurse, on duty all the 
time, who is glad to have your bell 
ring. No matter what you want at 
night, it is always ready. There is 
always a fire, always hot water, al- 
ways every kind of food and medicine 
on hand, always a cylinder of oxygen 









should a patient collapse after an three years. In fact, there are almost 

operation, alvva^'s a telephone to sum- always one or two of what might be 

mon the doctor in any emergency." called permanent boarders. These 

The fact that the hospital is small are women, chronic invalids, perhaps 
enables the patients' whims and fancies not in bed all the time, but who have 
to be considered as they could not be no home or need care and attention 
in a large institution. The writer re- that they cannot get at home. Con- 
calls an instance of an aged single valescent patients and those able to 
woman who was brought here in sit up take their meals with the nurses 
order that her last months might be in the cheerful family dining-room 
made comforlable. Her removal with its great ivy- wreathed bay 
necessitated the breaking up of her window, looking toward the south, 
little household, and among her cher- The price of rooms for paying 
ished possessions which were brought patients is as follows : There are three 
with her in the ambulance were four at $15.00 a week; three at $12.00; 
live geese feather pillows, which she three at $10.50, and four beds in the 
had made and filled in her vigorous ward at $7.00 each. Private patients 
days. She would rest on nothing pay for the attendance of their physi- 
else. As she grew weaker, her mind cian and for their personal washing, 
often wandered, especially at night. Food, medicine, supplies, care, every- 
One night she hastily summoned the thing else is included in the above 
nurse, who found the patient sitting price unless the patient requires a 
up in bed, declaring that she special nurse outside the regular 
could not sleep because she knew staff. It does not always follow that 
her own pillow^s had been carried a patient pays the price corresponding 
off. Assertions failed to convince, to the room that she occupies. Last 
Then the forbearing attendant took year eleven patients were admitted 
her scissors, ripped a .corner of the free; one paid $3.00 a week; two, 
tick, held the dying woman in her $3.50, and two, $5.00. The actual cost 
arms while the frail fingers could ex- per week for maintaining each patient 
plore the interior of the pillows and was $13.28. All patients receive 
know " for sure " that .she was hand- exactly the same care and treatment, 
ling her- own live geese feathers, according to their needs, whether 
Soon after she fell asleep. paying much or little. The fifteen 

The normal capacity of the hospi- dollar rooms are not better than the 

tal is fifteen patients, but at times others, except that they are larger and 

when some of the inmates were infants admit of a couch and afghan in addi- 

or young children, the accommoda- tion to the other furnishings. All of 

tions have been strained to care for the rooms have rocking chairs and 

eighteen or even twenty. They hassocks. The ward is the pleasantest 

sometimes. come from long distances, place in the whole building. It is a 

or even large cities like Lowell or great square room with windows on 

Boston. In one year the patients four sides. The central feature, lit- 

came from thirty different towns and erally in the middle of the apartment, 

seven different states. Many come is an imposing brick chimney with 

for long terms ; I believe one stayed two open fire-places around which 



the patients often gather in a social 

Although this is a woman's hospi- 
tal any patient who chooses may em- 
ploy a male physician, either from 
Concord or elsewhere. As a matter 
fact, nearly every physician in town 
has at one time or another had patients 
here. The management has always 
been very liberal in regard to the 
other sex. It is sometimes asked if 

Mrs. Lucy J. Sturtevant. 
Corresponding Secretary. . 

male patients would be received. 
Under ordinary circumstances. No, 
because the rooms are all needed for 
women ; but there is no hard and fast 
rule. After the Spanish war, when 
the general hospitals everywhere were 
full to overflowing. Dr. Wallace-Rus- 
sell turned the ward into a soldiers' 
barracks and four brave boys were 
tended there for several months. In 
one or two other instances the same 
liberal policy has prevailed. 

A word must be said about \)ci& per- 

sonnel of the staff. First and foremost 
ranks Dr. Julia Wallace-Russell, phy- 
sician-in-charge and really the founder 
of the institution. It is impossible to 
consider the record of this woman 
without admiration. A native of 
New Hampton, this state, in early 
life a teacher, she took her medical 
degree in New York city, and in 1878 
at the solicitation of Dr. Albert H. 
Crosby and with the warm approval 
of Dr. Granville P. Conn, she began 
her medical work in Concord. Ex- 
cept for very brief vacations, she has 
hardly missed a week since then. 
Every day, winter and summer, rain 
or heat, finds her at the post of duty, 
at the hospital, in her office or driv- 
ing about to the homes of her patients. 
Her courage and fidelity have been 
abundantly rewarded, and to-day she 
takes her place among the most hon- 
ored women of the state. 

Next to Dr. Wallace-Russell the 
hospital probably owes more to Miss 
Mary Ann Downing than to any other 
one person. Miss Downing (January 
25, 1826 — April 16, 1903), who was 
this year called to higher service, 
spent the 78 years of her noble life all 
in Concord. She was well known 
throughout the state, not only as a 
prominent member of the Unitarian 
church, but as an active promoter of 
everything relating to the welfare of 
mankind, particularly of women. 
Miss Downing's most marked char- 
acteristic, next to her unvarying 
cheerfulness, was her sturdy common 
sense. Always laboring for others, 
she worked in the wisest and most 
helpful way. This hospital was her 
last and greatest interest, and of herself 
and her money she gave unceasingly 
in its behalf. 

The office of president, which Miss 





Downing held from 1895 to her death 
in 1903, is now filled by Dr. Ellen A. 
Wallace of Manchester, the younger 
sister of Dr. Julia Wallace-Russell, 
and like her a promoter and devoted 
friend of the hospital. 

Following is the present list of of- 
ficers : 

President, Dr. Ellen A. Wallace, 

Vice-Presidents, Mrs. Evelyn M. 
Cox, Concord ; Mrs. Josephine R. 
Gile, Newport. 

Recording secretary, Mrs. 
thaniel White, Jr., Concord. 

Corresponding secretary, 
Lucy J. Sturtevant, Concord. 

Treasurer, Miss Emma M. Flan- 
ders, Concord. 

Auditors, Mrs. Mary W. Trues- 
dell, Suncook ; Mr. Josiah E. Fer- 
nald, Concord. 

Board of trustees, the foregoing 
u^omen and Dr. Julia Wallace- Russell, 
Concord ; Mrs. Caroline R. Thyng, 
New Hampton ; Mrs. Annie W. Pills- 
bury, West Derry ; Mrs. James F. 
Grimes, Hillsborough Bridge ; Miss 
Adelaide E. Merrill, Concord ; Mrs. 
Alice Potter Hosmer, Manchester. 

Advisory board, Mr. Charles D. 
Thyng, New Hampton ; Mr. John F. 
Jones, Concord, Hon. Edmund E. 
Truesdell, Suncook ; Mr. Arthur F. 
Sturtevant, Concord ; Mr. Josiah E. 
Fernald, Concord; Hon. Charles R. 
Corning, Concord. 

Physician-in-charge, Dr. Julia 
Wallace-Russell, Concord. 

Surgeon, Dr. Ferdinand A. Slil- 
lings, Concord. 

Consulting physicians and sur- 
geons, Dr. Ellen A. Wallace, Man- 
chester ; Dr. Granville P. Conn, 
Concord; Dr. Charles P. Bancroft, 

Pathologi-st, Dr. Arthur K. Day. 

Superintendent and principal of 
training school, Miss Eva M. Emery. 

Chairman of visiting committee, 
Miss Mary A. Gage, Concord. 

A training school for nurses was 
started October i , 1 897, under the care 
of Miss Esther Dart, for three years 
the efficient superintendent of this 
hospital, now at the head of the hos- 
pital for Harvard students at Cam- 




Miss Emma M. Flanders. 

bridge, Mass. Eight nurses have been 
graduated from this school of whom 
six are now holding hospital posi- 
tions, with one exception, in other 

One of the graduates, Miss Alma 
M. Barter, 1900, is the present head 
of the city hospital at Rockford, 111., 
an institution with a hundred beds. 
Another graduate of that year. Miss 
Eva M. Emery, is the present super- 
intendent of the N. H. Memorial 
Hospital. Miss Emery has the advan- 


tage of a liberal education, being a dam of Manchester ; one of $6,000 by- 
graduate of the Concord high school, Mrs. Louisa F. Richards of Newport. 
Latin course, 1896, with an excellent An especially valuable gift this year 
record in private and hospital nurs- was the Stillings operating-room, 
ing. She has shown marked aptitude The enlargement and improvement of 
for her new position. A class of four this room, now modern and perfect in 
nurses will graduate from the school every detail, was given by Mrs. Grace 
this month. Minot Stillings, wife of Dr. Ferdinand 
Although the hospital has never A. Stillings, one of the foremost sur- 
appealed to the public by a ball, fair, geons of this region, who sometimes 
or entertainment of any sort, the gifts performs two or three operations a 
have been numerous and constant, week at this hospital. 
There is an annual donation day in In conclusion, the writer ma}'- be 
October, but money or supplies are permitted to say that an experience 
gladly received at any time through- of many months as a patient in the 
out the year. The associaiion now hospital at four different times has 
has 15 patron members at $100 each ; given her an opportunity to appre- 
47 life members at $25 each ; 32 memo- ciate the faithful, loving care received 
orial members at $10 each ; 126 annual there; and that she realizes better 
members at $1 each; 220 in all. Two than any reader of this article will 
free beds have been established, one that the half has not been told about 
of $5,000 by Miss Sidonia H. Olzen- its noble work. 

By C. C. Lord. 

We thank Thee, Lord of earth and sky, 
For riches, wrought of faithful toil, 

That in our spacious garners lie, 
The fruitage of the sun and soil. 

For works of skill by patient hands, 

That prove the worth advantage brings. 

For truth that in the mind expands. 
In thanks our quick laudation springs. 

Yet, for the rolling year, our praise 
In grateful meed shall nobler be. 

To tell that, through life's troubled days, 
Our fruitful souls ascend to Thee. 

Then, while we flourish, in Thy sight 
Be homage perfect in us found. 

Our hopes resplendent as the light, 
Our hearts as fertile as the ground. 


By John Scales, A. M. 

was graudsou of Robert 
aud son of Beujamin 
Evans. Robert settled 
in Dover about 1665 ; it 
is said he came from Wales and set- 
tled at Cochecho in Dover, where he 
resided till his death, February 27, 

Benjamin was born February 2, 
1687 ; he married Mary, daughter of 
Joseph Field ; he resided at Cochecho 
aud was one of its prosperous and 
worthy citizens ; he was killed by the 
Indians September 15, 1725, being 
the last of the many Dover people 
who were slaughtered and scalped by 
the savage foe during the half century 
of warfare from 1675 to 1725. His 
brother was scalped and left for dead 
at the same time, but recovered and 
lived to a good old age, minus his 
scalp. This brother was the father 
of the poet Whittier's grandfather. 

Stephen was the youngest of five 
children, being born November 13, 
1724. He was about a year old when 
his father died. His mother carefully 
reared and educated him, as best the 
opportunities of the period afforded. 
Among his teachers was the famous 
Master Sullivan, father of Gen. John 
Sullivan, New Hampshire's greatest 
Revolutionary hero. Although his 
father was the last Dover victim in 
the Indian wars, the people lived in 
constant terror for many years after- 
wards, and it was in this sort of 

G. M.— 18 

atmosphere that Stephen passed his 
boyhood and received the impressions 
which influenced his career in later 

When about fifteen years old he 
was placed as an apprentice to serve 
his time with Mr. Elihu Hayes, a 
ship builder at Dover Eanding ; here 
he worked diligently and undisturbed 
till he was twenty years old ; then he 
was called to serve as a soldier in the 
campaign for the capture of Louis- 
burg ; he enlisted in Capt. Samuel 
Hale's company, and his name ap- 
pears on the muster roll as " servant " 
of Mr. Hayes, because he had not 
served out his time. In this famous 
siege he served faithfully, and fared 
wth his brother soldiers the hardships 
of the campaign. 

On his return to Dover he did not 
resume his position with Mr. Hayes, 
but set up business for himself as ship 
builder. He followed this occupation 
several years and then opened a store 
for general trade, on the summit of 
the hill which overlooks the Landing, 
at the head of tide water. Here he 
continued in business till after the 
Revolution. He was active, ener- 
getic, and prosperous, and had accu- 
mulated a good fortune, for those 
days, when the storm of the Revolu- 
tion came to disturb everything, and 
make the rich poor and the poor pov- 
erty stricken. He was largely en- 
gaged in the West India trade at one 
time. He kept up his interest in 



military affairs and became captain 
of a company of Dover men which did 
a good deal of scouting work between 
1750 and 1760. 

Mr. Evans was not only active in 
business and military affairs, but also 
became an active and influential 
member of the First church, which 
he joined October 24, 1742, being 
then nearly eighteen years old. In 
the prime of his life and prosperity he 
owned and occupied a pew in the 
most fashionable quarter of the meet- 
ing-house ; this pew was later occu- 
pied by the distinguished and aristo- 
cratic Judge Durell and family. Mr. 
Evans was one of the parish wardens 
for many years. 

In December, 1766, the church and 
parish gave a call to Rev. Jeremy 
Belknap to become assistant pastor, 
as Rev. Jonathan Gushing, who had 
been pastor since 171 7, was too infirm 
to longer perform successfully the 
parish work. The church and the 
parish appointed the usual commit- 
tees to extend and accept the call, 
and prepare for the installation of 
young Mr. Belknap. The records 
say that the committee of the church 
consisted of " Dea. Shadrach Hodg- 
don, Dea. Daniel Ham, and Capt. 
Stephen Evans." The parish also 
named Captain Evans as one of its 
committee, which shows the captain 
was one of the most popular men of 
the period in church affairs. 

Mr. Belknap accepted the call and 
was installed January 19, 1767. An 
installation in those days was a great 
event in the lifetime of a generation ; 
great preparations had to be made 
and were made. Ministers from all 
the churches in Boston and the towns 
this side of there were invited ; also 
all the churches in eastern New 

Hampshire and Maine were invited 
to send delegates. Captain Evans 
was the member of the committee 
who was commissioned to write and 
dispatch the ' ' letters missive ' ' to all 
of these churches, which arduous task 
he accomplished promptly and in the 
best of form. Mr. Belknap came and 
was installed and remained twenty 
years ; he preached patriotic as well 
as doctrinal sermons, and wrote the 
best history of New Hampshire that 
exists even at the present day. Cap- 
tain Evans was his staunch supporter 
and loyal helper from the day of in- 
stallation to the day of his departure 
for Boston, where he soon after be- 
came a Doctor of Divinity. 

Captain Evans does not appear to 
have held any town offices till 1771, 
when he was elected one of the select- 
men ; he was re-elected in 1772 and 
'73. Although he did not seek office 
he took a lively interest in the great 
questions of the approaching Revolu- 
tion. When the call was issued in 
1775 for the first New Hampshire 
provincial congress, Dover promptly 
held its town-meeting and elected 
Captain Evans one of its delegates ; 
there were five congresses held that 
year, and Captain Evans was a mem- 
ber of all and took an active and lead- 
ing part in formulating measures 
which led to the colonial and finally 
to the state government. 

August 24, 1775, he was elected 
colonel of the Second regiment of 
New Hampshire militia, and remained 
its commander till the militia was re- 
organized in 1782. He was " Colonel" 
Evans all the rest of his life. There 
were thirteen regiments in the state ; 
it was the duty of the colonels to keep 
the men of the regiments carefully 
equipped and thoroughly drilled,, so 



that when men were wanted for the 
Continental service the drafi could be 
promptly filled from the ranks of these 
militia men. Colonel livans kept his 
regiment in first-class condition, al- 
though the work was verj^ arduous, 
and not always pleasant. When men 
had served out their term of enlist- 
ment and came home, they were at 
once enrolled in the militia regiment 
and drilled regularly in preparation 
for a future draft. Thus it happened 
that many men served several short 
terms in the Continental army, as 
their services were needed. 

At one time New Hampshire had 
more than five thousand men in the 
Continental army ; at other times it 
had not more than three thousand in 
the field, the number varying accord- 
ing as the tide of war ebbed and 
flowed in various sections of the 
North, and especially in New Eng- 

When he was member of the pro- 
vincial congresses of 1775, he served 
on important committees. First he 
served on the committee to secure the 
money in the provincial treasury by 
demanding it of the treasurer, George 
Jaffrey. Mr. Jaffrey at first refused 
to deliver it to the committee, but was 
finally persuaded to surrender, on as- 
surance that he should not be harmed 
nor suffer loss. Next thing to be 
done was to secure the records of the 
courts and the various departments of 
the royal government ; Colonel Evans 
was a member of this committee, and 
after overcoming many obstacles the 
committee secured the papers and 
books and transferred them from 
Portsmouth to Exeter, which became 
the seat of government during the 
Revolution and for sometime after 
the declaration of peace. 

In July, 1775, he was appointed 
one of a committee to procure fire 
arms for the militia regiments ; this 
commission was so well performed 
that the New Hampshire men were 
among the best equipped of any in 
the Continental service. 

Colonel Evans was member of the 
committee to apportion representation 
of the various towns and parishes in 
the general assembly. The report 
of this committee was adopted. Each 
voter was required to possess real es- 
tate to the value of twenty pounds ; a 
man to be a candidate must possess 
three hundred pounds. Each town 
containing one hundred families was 
permitted to send one representative 
to the assembly, and one more for 
each additional one hundred families, 
except that no town was permitted to 
send more than three representatives. 
Those towns containing less than one 
hundred families were to be classed 
to make the requisite number, except 
that old parishes should not be de- 
prived of their ancient right of one 
representative, though they contained 
less than one hundred families. 

Colonel Evans was member of the 
committee that drafted the first con- 
stitution of the state, which was the 
first of the colonies to adopt a formal 
constitution. There was some oppo- 
sition to the adoption of it at that 
time because no other colony had 
taken the step, and they wanted to 
wait a bit ; but the majority went 
ahead, and, once adopted, all cordially 
supported it. 

January 12, 1776, Colonel Evans 
was appointed to receive the appor- 
tionment of arms for the Strafford 
county militia, which the assembly 
that day voted to be purchased. It 
may be interesting in this connection 



to give a description of the guti : 
" The barrel was to be three feet nine 
inches long ; the bore to carry an 
ounce ball ; to have good bayonet 
with blade eighteen inches long ; an 
iron ramrod with spring to retain the 
same." The manufacturer must 
prove the durability of the gun at his 
own risk, with a charge of four and 
a half inches of powder, well wadded. 
Some of those old guns are yet in 
possession of the descendants of the 
Dover patriots who used them on the 

January 16, 1776, Colonel Evans 
was appointed chairman of the com- 
mittee on muster rolls. About the 
same time he was chairman of the 
committee to prepare and present a 
bill empowering moderators of town 
meetings and the clerks of towns and 
parishes to administer the oath of 
office to town and parish officers. 

January 17, 1776, Colonel Evans 
was elected sheriff of Strafford county, 
being the first to hold that important 
office under the new government. 
Governor Wentworth's appointee was 
not allowed to serve after the governor 
left the province. A sheriff then was 
called "high" sheriff, and an im- 
mense amount of dignity was attached 
to the office, which the present officer 
can scarcely conceive of. 

January 23, he was appointed one 
of the committee to nominate a list of 
civil officers to be presented to the 
assembly for election. The recom- 
mendations of the committee were 
adopted entire, showing that they 
had performed their duty with discre- 
tion and ability. 

January 26, he was one of the com- 
mittee to procure seventy axes for the 
use of the regiment destined for Can- 
ada, in which expedition axes were 

an important part of the implements 
of war, as the soldiers had to cut their 
way through the forest primeval for 
hundreds of miles. The colonel saw 
to it that they had good sharp tools. 

March 11, 1776, the assembly 
passed the following: "Voted that 
three companies, consisting of one 
hundred men each [including offi- 
cers], be raised out of each of the fol- 
lowing regiments, viz., Portsmouth, 
Dover, and Hampton, to be on the 
lines at Portsmouth immediately, with 
arms and ammunition complete, and 
there continue till further orders." 

Colonel Evans was appointed to 
command this battalion, and served 
as ordered till all fear of a British 
attack by the fleet had subsided. 

March 22, he was appointed mem- 
ber of the Committee of Safety and 
served several months that year. 

October 19, 1776, he was one of tlie 
committee to go to Ticonderoga and 
investigate the condition of affairs 
and report to the general court. They 
were instructed to promote the rais- 
ing of the colony's quota of men for 
the Continental army, either by re- 
enlistment of the men in the service, 
or by procuring new men in New 
York to complete the quota. Colonel 
Evans and the committee attended ta 
this duty and kept New Hampshire's 
quota full under very difficult circum- 
stances. The men then at Ticonde- 
roga were suffering terribly from fa- 
tigue caused by the return march 
from Canada, under General Sulli- 
van, and from smallpox and malarial 

The state organization went into 
operation December 18, 1776; the 
colony of New Hampshire ceased to 
exist at that date. New Hampshire 
was a "Province" of Great Britain 



one hundred and fifty-three years ; a 
'' Colony" not quite one year, ending 
as above. It used the name colony 
instead of province so as to be uniform 
in style with the other colonies. 
Colonel Evans and Hon. John Went- 
worth, Jr., were the Dover represen- 
tatives in this state assembly ; 
they continued to serve during 1777. 
June 21, of that year, by order of 
the town of Dover, they presented a 
bill granting Dover the privilege of 
holding a lottery to raise money to 
pay for building a bridge across the 
Cocheco river, where now is the 
Central avenue bridge. The general 
court was at first opposed to granting 
the request of the town, but finally 
the bill was passed, prefaced with the 
statement that, in general, lotteries 
are detrimental to the best interests 
of society and are immoral, but as 
taxes were high in Dover, and times 
were hard, and the people were suffer- 
ing by unhappy disputes in regard to 
the bridge, they would, just this once, 
grant the request. The lottery was 
held, and was a success ; the bridge 
was paid for, and the selectmen had 
some money left to use for war pur- 

The council issued the following 

order in August, 1777 : 

"State of New Hampshire :— To Colonel 
Stephen Evans : You are hereby directed 
to march with your regiment, lately raised 
to re-enforce the Continental army, as soon 
as possible to Bennington, where you will 
find provisions, and put yourself under 
command of General Stark, if he be there, 
or anywhere in those parts, provided Gen. 
Stark has determined to tarry in the ser- 
vice, who in that case will put himself 
under command of the Commander-in- 
Chief of the Continental army. But if 
Gen. Stark should have left service before 
your arrival, or be determined not to tarry, 
then you are directed to put yourself under 

command of the General of the Continen- 
tal army nearest to Bennington, then to 
act as shall be prescribed by the com- 
mander of the Continental army in that 

Colonel Evans took prompt action 
to carry out the order of the council ; 
but the dilatory action of some officers 
on whom he depended caused some 
delay in getting his forces started for 
Bennington. At a meeting in Con- 
cord he had a sharp controversy with 
Colonel Badger of Gilmanton, because 
the latter did not furnish the part of 
the quota promptly that was assigned 


On September 24 the council issued 
an order for Colonel Evans to march 
his forces at once ; the following re- 
ply was made by the colonel why the 
delay had occurred : 

"To the Honorable, the President of the 
Council sitting at Portsmouth, Sir :— The 
money I received out of the Treasury for 
paying 170 men and the officers of three 
companies, including the adjutant and 
quartermaster, amounts to 4,445 dollars. 
I received about 3,800, which leaves 645 
short of accomplishing the thing men- 

" Sir :— I have not let the business suffer 
for want of the above money, as I was so 
lucky as to find a friend who obliged me 
with it, but must replace the same before 
I march ; therefore should take it as a 
favor if the money could be paid the 
bearer, Mr. Joseph Evans, and his receipt 
shall be good for the same. 
"Sir, Your most obd' & very humble Serv', 

Step" Evans. 
"Dover, Sept. 24, 1777. 
"P. S The men in my Regiment are 
mostly marched & I gave order to the 
Lieut. Col & Major, and hope to get off 
myself very soon. 

"(As before) S. E." 

When his regiment reached Ben- 
nington there was no further need for 
them to stop there ; General Stark 
had whipped the British army and 



driven them some distance on the way 
to join Burgoyne's army ; hence Colo- 
nel Evans kept on till he reached the 
Continental army under command of 
"General Gates. The regiment was 
assigned to duty with the other New 
Hampshire troops, and Evans was 
assigned as Colonel on Brig. -General 
Whipple's staff. They did their part 
gallantly in the encounters at Bemis' 
Heights and at Stillwater, and partici- 
pated in the grand surrender of Bur- 
goyne's army at Saratoga. It is not 
necessary for me to recount here the 
specific actions of the New Hamp- 
shire troops in that great turning 
point in the Revolutionary struggle ; 
you can read it in history ; one inci- 
dent may be mentioned as illustrative 
of the whole : Col. Joseph Cilley, 
when his regiment had captured a 
brass cannon from the Hessians, got 
astride of the cannon and ordered his 
men to load and fire it against the 
enemy ; they obeyed his command, 
and the shot did killing. work among 
the enemy ; Colonel Cilley then got 
down from the cannon and resumed 
his place at the head of his forces, 
amid tremendous cheers from his 
men. Colonel Cilley's son-in-law, 
Thomas Bartlett, was lieutenant- 
colonel on General Whipple's staff. 

An English gentleman who was in 
Burgoyne's army and participated in 
the surrender, gave a description of 
General Gate's army as it appeared 
to him as he marched by them. He 
says : 

"I shall never forget the appearance of 
the American troops on our marching past 
them. A dead silence reigned throi:gli 
their numerous columns. I must say their 
decent behavior to us, so greatly fallen, 

merited the utmost praise Not 

one of them was uniformly clad ; each had 
on the clothes he wore in the fields, the 

church, or the tavern ; they stood, how- 
ever, like soldiers, well arranged and with 
military air, in which there was but little 
to find fault with. All the muskets had 
bayonets, and the sharpshooters had rifles. 
The meu stood so still that we were filled 
with wonder. Not one of them made a 
single motion as if he would speak with 
his neighbor. Nay, more, all the lads that 
stood there in rank and file, kind nature 
had formed so trim, so slender, so nervous, 
that it was a pleasure to look at them, and 
we were all surprised at the sight of such 
a handsome and well-formed race. The 
whole nation has a natural turn for war 
and a soldier's life. 

" The Generals and staffs wore uniforms, 
and belts which designated their rank, but 
most of the Colonels were in their ordinary 
clothes, with a musket and bayonet in 
hand, with a cartridge box or powder horn 
slung over their shoulders. There were 
regular regiments, which for want of time 
or cloth, were not equipped in uniform. 
These had standards with various em- 
blems and mottoes, some of which had a 
very satirical meaning for us." 

This picture, happily drawn by the 
Englishman's pen, shows us how our 
Revolutionary ancestors looked when 
in battle array. I have seen nothing 
the equal of it anywhere else in his- 
tory, or literature. They were cer- 
tainly far from being " clod hoppers " 
and clowns, as some sneering critics 
have represented them. They were 
fine men and had fine instincts of 
patriotism and honor. 

No sooner was the surrender of 
Burgoyne's army completed than 
orders were given for the New Hamp- 
shire men to march to Albany with 
all speed possible. The roads were 
bad and the traveling was horrible, 
but notwithstanding that, these New 
Hampshire men marched forty miles 
in fourteen hours, and crossed the 
Mohawk river below the falls. The 
reason for this rapid march was the 
report that General Clinton was com- 



ing lip the Hudson to capture Albany. 
He intended to do so, but gave up the 
attempt when he heard of Burgoyne's 

After making such a rapid march 
they were disappointed at not finding 
the enemy at Albany, hence com- 
menced to look at the ills they were 
suffering themselves ; they were tired 
and hungry, and because they could 
not quickly get rations to satisfy their 
appetites, they began to feel cross and 
ugly. Some of them declared that 
their term of enlistment had expired, 
and vowed they would start for home ; 
these were men in Colonel Evans' 
•regiment. Colonel Evans and his 
officers tried every means to dissuade 
them from taking such a rash and 
disgraceful course, but there were 
eighty-five men they could not prevail 
upon to stay longer, and they started 
for home. Colonel Evans sent the 
following letter to the Committee of 
Safety in regard to the affair : 

" Albany, October 23d, 1777. 
" Sir :— After giving you joy on the glo- 
rious and complete victory over Geu^ 
Burgoyne and his army in those parts, I 
would inform the committee, or the gen- 
eral court if sitting, of the low lived and 
scandalous behaviour of a part of my Regi- 
ment, who for no sufficient reason have 
shamefully deserted and gone home. Last 
Saturday, late in the day, I had orders to 
march for Albany ; we paraded as soon as 
possible and marched ; the whole army was 
in motion, having news that the enemy 
was making up the river, determined for 
Albany. My Regiment at that time had 
but one day's provision, which was the 
case with many others. We did not arrive 
at Albany Sunday by reason of some dis- 
order in the Regiment. Monday, early in 
the forenoon, they got in, the chief part of 
them. We applied immediately for pro- 
vision ; it could not by any means be pro- 
cured so soon as we called, but all despatch 
possible was made so that we got some in 
the afternoon ; but in the meantime some 

officers and men made such a noise about 
their ill treatment that I was really 
ashamed to hear them. They railed and 
swore they would go home. I strove with 
all my power to prevail with them to stay, 
but to no purpose. I provided very good 
houses for them, where they might live 
with the families, about six in a house, but 
all would not do, and home they would 
go, aud did go, to the tune of 85 officers 
and men; and I herewith present you 
a list of the whole and have sent the same 
on, knowing it was my duty to inform you 
of all such rash and unjustifiable proceed- 
ings, and beg at the same time that they 
may be dealt with in the strictest manner ; 
they are not in the least excusable; all 
things considered, they are base men. 
After they, the most of them, have taken 
from oue another 70 or 80 dollars, and some 
more, how can they answer such proceed- 
ings to God, their conscience, and those 
they robbed of their money ? I have re- 
turned herewith the returns of each com- 
pany, from their respective commanding 
officers that is now present, and hope that 
for the safety of our army example, &c., 
they will be advertised as deserters, which 
I am ordered to do by the General. 1 de- 
sire there may be orders given out imme- 
diately to the officers of the militia to se- 
cure (arrest) both officers and men as fast 
as they get home. 

" Your most obd* & humb^ Serv*, 
" Steph" Evans. 

"N. B. I have enclosed an account of 
what Gen' Burgoyne's army consisted. 
His army consisted according to the most 
authentic accounts of 9,575 ; 400 hundred 
of whom fell into our hands before the 
capitulation, and a very considerable num- 
ber were killed, or rendered unfit for ser- 
vice. Indeed it is generally believed that 
the whole would have been totally de- 
stroyed had not the Gen^ prevented it by 
speedy surrender, which has given un- 
wonted honor to the American arms. 

"S. E." 

The deserters arrived home and 
were arrested by the militia officers, 
as Colonel Evans had ordered ; they 
felt very crestfallen and their de- 
scendants do not mention this part of 



their service in the Revolutionary 

At a session of the general court, 
December 25, 1777, the deserters were 
censured and deprived of their wages. 

On the 26th Colonel Evans was 
authorized and instructed to pay all 
of the officers and men except the de- 

January 21, 1778, the deserters were 
arraigned before the Committee of 
Safety ; the record reads as follows : 

"Sundry soldiers, who deserted from 
Albany, bro' before the committee this day 
& were examined. Some ordered to pay 
all the money they had received, into the 
Treasury, others to pay part, & others dis- 
mist for the present." 

I can find no further reference to 
these unfaithful soldiers ; the pre- 
sumption is that they henceforth lived 
in a law-abiding manner and re- 
sponded promptly when the next 
draft was made for soldiers. 

Colonel Evans' next service in the 
field was in the Rhode Island cam- 
paign. He had long been an inti- 
mate friend of General Sullivan, and 
when the latter assumed command 
there he invited Colonel Evans to 
serve on his staff and the offer was 
accepted and he served through the 
whole campaign. lyafayette and 
Greene were commanders of divisions. 
General Sullivan managed his cam- 
paign skilfully, but did not accom- 
plish what he intended to do, and 
would have done, if the French fleet 
had not sailed away without firing a 
gun. Eafayette declared the battle 
at Butt's hill to be one of the most 
hotly contested during the war ; it 
occurred on August 29, and Sullivan 
showed himself to be a great com- 
mander. At the close of the cam- 
paign General Sullivan bestowed high 

praise on Colonel Evans' work as a 
staff officer, and tendered him sincere 
thanks for the great assistance he had 
rendered. This was the last active 
service that he performed in the Con- 
tinental army, but at home he re- 
mained in command of the Second 
regiment of militia till the reorganiza- 
tion took place near the close of the 

After the close of the war he retired 
to private life, and attended to his 
business affairs, which his army and 
other public services had greatly dis- 
arranged and somewhat embarrassed, 
although he was one of the wealthiest 
men in the town when the war began. # 

All in all Colonel Evans was un- 
doubtedly the ablest and most influ- 
ential military man Dover had in the 
public service during the Revolution 
from 1875 to 1784. He was aristo- 
cratic and conservative, so when the 
war was over, and all sorts of new 
schemes of government were agitated, 
his conservatism rendered him less 
popular than in former years, when 
he could carry the masses with him 
in town meetings in favor of every 
measure he proposed. He was a man 
of high order of ability, and stern in- 
tegrity ; he was a Christian gentle- 
man of the old Puritan type ; his 
townsmen always held him in high 

In his domestic relations he was a 
model husband ; he owned slaves but 
was a humane master; the following 
is recorded in Rev. Dr. Belknap's 
book of marriages: "Dec 26, 1774, 
Richard, Negro servant of Mark 
Hunking, Esq., of Barrington, & 
Julia, Negro servant of Stephen Ev- 
ans, Esq., of Dover, by consent of 
their respective Masters." 

Colonel Evans was thrice married. 



His first wife was Elizabeth Roberts, 
to whom he was married in 1749 ; to 
them were born four children : Eph- 
raim, born June 24, 1750; Molly, born 
June 21, 1752 ; Joseph, born October 
31, 1754; Mary, born July 31, 1757 ; 
this first wife died in 1760. 

In 1762 he married his second wife, 
Sarah Rol)erts, and to them the fol- 
lowing children were born, and were 
baptized at the following dates, by 
Rev. Jonathan Gushing, and Rev. Dr. 
Belknap: Benjamin, May 20, 1764; 
Betty, September 22, 1765; Sarah, 
March 8, 1767 ; this second wife died 
in 1768. 

He married for his third wife, in 
1770, Lj'dia Chesley ; to them were 
born six children, who were baptized 
by Rev. Dr. Belknap at the following 
dates: Temperance, April 27, 1771 ; 
Klizabeth, October 25, 1772 ; Lydia, 

June 5, 1774; Ichabod Chesley, born 
January 29, and baptized February 2, 

/ / / ' 

Patty, February 20, 1780. 

His sou Joseph graduated from 
Harvard cojlege in 1777 ; he married 
Elizabeth, daughter of Col. Thomas 
Westbrook Waldron, April 7, 1786; 
he died August 30, 1797. Colonel 
Evans has no descendants in Dover 
at the present time (1903) bearing 
the name of Evans. 

Colonel Evans died in 1808 in the 
84th year of his life ; he was active 
and vigorous up to the day of his 
death, which came upon him very 
suddenly and unexpectedly. His re- 
mains were interred at Pine Hill cem- 
etery, but no monument marks the 
spot where rests the dust of Dover's 
greatest, bravest, and most brilliant 
military man of the Revolution. 


By Alice D. O. Greenwood. 

A beautiful dawn, so soft and tender, 

A golden haze in the autumn air, , 
O'er all the hills, in his misty splendor 

The sun hath smiled, and the world is fair, 

A tin}- barque, with white sails flowing. 
Put out on the blue from a sunlit bay. 

And we from the shore note it dimmer growing 
Until in the distance it fades away. 

The air is chill, the sun is hidden. 

The wind from the sea hath an ominous tone. 
Though bravely the barque the waves have ridden. 

At ev^e, a wreck drifts in alone. 

And thus, though we walk through life together, 
Your path the same that my feet have known, 

It is fate's decree ! All ties must sever, 
And into the harbor each drift alone. 



By Mrs. VV. V. Tompkins. 

HEY had been children 
together — Adam and 
Eve, — ^and cousins too 
in a way, but Eve's 
mother had died, and 
her father was, as Tom Delmar had 
often said, "an old fool." So grad- 
ually, little by little, the intimacy be- 
tween the two families was broken 

So Eve saw little enough of Adam, 
save at a distance, and Adam saw 
still less of Eve. His mother had 
died, too, but his father being wise in 
his day and generation had soon re- 
married, and the multiplicity of little 
ones in the Delmar home was per- 
haps accountable for Tom Delmar's 
anomalous position with regard to 
politics, and the jaundiced view 
which he took of the public debt, 
national banks, and other matters of 
importance. At any rate the year 
Eve became seventeen he came out 
boldly for congress on the third party 
ticket, and after that the feud be- 
tween the Montagues and Capulets 
was as nothing compared to the war- 
fare between the two families, for 
Colonel Hilton was an unswerving, 
uncompromising Democrat, who had 
little patience with any one of an op- 
posing opinion, least of all Tom 

Delmar was overwhelmingly and in- 
gloriously defeated, thanks in a large 
measure to the colonel's influence, 
and he was furious. Soon after the 

election the two met in the village 
post-office and the natural result fol- 
lowed. They were both hot-tem- 
pered, dangerous men, and Delmar 
besides his usual arrogance, in which 
he was as like Colonel Hilton as two 
peas in the same pod, was very sore 
over his recent defeat. 

Mrs. Delmar, who drove into town 
with her babies about her, entered 
the office just in time to preveut 
bloodshed. Colonel Hilton had a 
deep respect for the little woman and 
so the quarrel was waived for the time 
being, each of the combatants men- 
tally resolving to renew it in a more 
effective manner as soon as possible. 

Two remarks had been made which 
the parties found it severally impos- 
sible to forgive. Colonel Hilton had 
said that he considered it a disgrace 
.that he should be connected, though 
ever so remotely, with a man so lack- 
ing in sense or so base in principle as 
to belong to such an organization as 
the third party, while Mr. Delmar 
had rejoined with a good deal of acri- 
mony that Colonel Hilton could not 
possibly regret their slight relation- 
ship any more than he did himself, 
and that it was his personal opinion 
that no Democrat under any possible 
combination of circumstances could 
ever be an honest man. 

Pretty Eve almost wept her pretty 
eyes out that night when she heard 
that there was to be an end even to 
the slight communication between 



the two families, and in doing so, so 
mortally offended her father that he 
promptly ordered her to retire to her 
own room ; a proceeding which so as- 
tonished the young lady that there 
was nothing for her to do but to obey. 

That had been two years ago and 
since that time Colonel Hilton and 
Mr. Delmar had never exchanged a 
word. They were members of the 
same church and sat near each other 
Sabbath after Sabbath without even a 
glance at each other. Affairs went 
on from bad to worse. The Demo- 
cratic congressional convention when 
it met in April nominated Colonel 
Hilton for congress. The third party 
convention which met only a week 
afterwards appointed Mr. Delmar as 
the standard bearer who, as they ex- 
pressed it, was to lead the horny- 
handed sons of toil to a glorious vic- 
tory over monopolies and the oppres- 
sors of the poor. 

It was in vain that poor Eve 
pleaded with her father not to accept 
the nomination. He only pictured 
the delights of a season in Washing- 
ton in such glowing colors that a more 
sensible head than Eve's might have 
been turned by it. 

It was in vain that Adam wrote to 
his father, respectfully begging him 
to reconsider his determination to 
reenter the political arena — deprecat- 
ing the division between the two fam- 
ilies — and expressing a fear that the 
election would only result as it had 
two years before in the victory of the 
Democratic nominee. 

Mr. Delmar wrote him a letter by 
return mail hinting rather strongly 
that he was not in his second child- 
hood, and that the young man might 
find it more to his personal interest to 
attend to his own business. 

The situation grew more strained. 
The air was full of red-hot speeches, 
flying flags, the long roll of beaten 
drums, and the night darkness 
starred b}^ torchlight processions. 
And as the situation grew more 
heated the temper of the two oppo- 
nents increased likewise. Neither of 
them would listen to a word of advice. 
Their lands joined, and the boundary 
line came to be a frontier along which 
a deadly warfare raged that grew 
more and more desperate every day. 

Mr. Delmar set steel traps along 
the burdock hedge that had been 
planted along the line since his defec- 
tion from the political faith of his 
fathers, and a favorite dog belonging 
to Colonel Hilton having followed a 
rabbit across the line, was caught by 
the foot in one of these traps and was 
so badly injured that his master, much 
against his will, was obliged to shoot 

In part payment for this. Colonel 
Hilton dug a series of pitfalls on his 
own side of the hedge covering them 
thinly with earth, and the next day a 
fine horse belonging to Mr. Delmar 
stumbled into one of these hidden 
pits and broke his neck. 

A few days afterwards, Mr. Del- 
mar's children straying too near the 
hedge began searching for dewberries. 
Little Noel, the oldest son of the sec- 
ond marriage, had his hand caught in 
one of the traps and his fingers were 
so badly lacerated that he was for 
some days in serious danger of lock- 
jaw. The same afternoon, Eve, at- 
tracted by some wild roses blooming 
in the hedge, felt the ground give way 
beneath her feet and when some of 
the men attracted by her cries from 
their work in the fields near by came 
to her assistance, she was found with 



a sprained ankle in one of the pits 
which her father had dug. 

This was found to be such a losing 
game on both sides that the traps and 
pitfalls were abolished by common 
consent. Both of the men were rather 
unpopular in the district, and it was 
prophesied by old politicians that 
many would refuse to vote the tickets 
on which either name appeared. The 
Republican element amounted to but 
very little in that district. The mem- 
bers of that party had always fused 
with the Greenback or People's party, 
but Mr. Delmar being personally ob- 
noxious to some of the Republican 
leaders, they held a meeting soon 
after the other conventions and nom- 
inated a man whom the}' thought 
likely to be willing to go through the 
farce of making the race in order that 
that they might avoid voting on the 
one hand for Delmar, whom they per- 
sonally disliked, or Hilton on the 
other, who represented a party to 
whom they felt they could conscien- 
tiously make no concessions. 

About a month before the election 
young Adam Delmar came home very 
suddenly and unexpectedly. The 
children were jubilant, and his pretty 
little stepmother in the confidential 
interview that followed his home- 
coming, told him earnestly that she 
trusted him to keep his hot-tempered 
father out of mischief. Adam could 
not repress a smile as he thought of 
his father's last letter but assured her 
that she might depend upon him. 

Mr. Delmar alone looked upon his 
hopeful son rather suspiciously when 
he found that he had come home to 
remain some weeks. However, as 
Adam was a mouth too young to vote 
in the general election and as he was 
rather popular than otherwise, his 

father reconsidered his first determina- 
tion, which had been to impress upon 
Adam the advisability of visiting a 
relative in a distant state, and in- 
formed him that he was very glad to 
see him. However, he added a bit of 
caution which was hardly so palatable 
to Adam : 

" You must stay away from old Hil- 
ton's while 3'ou are here. Ad," he 
said as the two walked alone beneath 
the clematis vines on the long ver- 
anda. ' ' The depths of depravity into 
which that man has fallen in the last 

two years By George, sir, he has 

no more sense of honor than a 

Adam smiled. 

"I am very much disappointed, 
sir," he said after a pause. " I don't 
care a fig for the colonel, but I do 
want to see little Eve. You know 
that after all we are cousins." 

" Fiddlesticks ! " said the old gen- 
tleman, tartly. " I am sure that I 
am not anxious to claim any relation- 
ship. The blundering old idiot ! " 

" Who, father ? " asked Adam, in- 
nocently, " Ivittle Eve? " 

Tom Delmar' s face softened. 

"Nonsense!" he said. He had 
always liked Eve. " She has more 
sense in a day than her old father has 
in a whole year." His face hardened 
with anger. " The old fool dug a pit 
to spite me, and poor little Eve fell 
into it and broke her arm or ankle. 
I only wish that it had been his 
blamed old neck. It would only have 
served him right. I was really sorry 
for Eve, but it did look almost like 
the Lord had sent a judgment on her 

"It is usually the way in this 
world," said Adam carelessly. " The 
wicked sin, and the innocent gener- 



ally have to pa}' the peualt3^ By the 
way," craftily, "what is the matter 
with Noel ? I had meant to ask the 
little mother but forgot it. He looks 
pale and I notice has his hand ban- 
daged ? " 

His father's face grew scarlet. He 
flashed a suspicious glance at the 
the 3'oung man, but Adam's face was 
gravely interested — nothing more. 

" Ahem I The child injured his 
hand," said Mr. Delmar, lamely, 
"that is all. His mother was quite 
anxious about him for some days, and, 
Adam, you know how nervous she is. 
I wouldn't mention the matter either 
to her or any one else if I were j^ou." 

Adam's face was bent so that his 
father could not see the smile in his 
eyes. He did not look up for some 

"I will certainly follow your ad- 
vice," he said. " I was sorry to see 
the little mother looking pale and 
careworn, but of course her anxiety 
about Noel would account for all that. 
I earnestly hope that he will live to be 
a better son to you than I have ever 

Mr. Delmar laid one hand proudly 
on his son's shoulder. 

"You have been all that I could 
ask, Adam," he said earnestly, "only 
it seems to me a pity that you should 
waste your natural abilities and the 
educational advantages that I have 
given you to become a mere back- 
woods farmer." 

"A mere backwoods farmer! " re- 
peated Adam gravely. " I hardly 
think, father, that the rank and file of 
your constituents would relish the 
contempt for their calling that was in 
your voice then." 

Mr. Delmar flushed for the second 

" I do not intend that they shall 
hear it, Adam," he said nervously. 
" I am unpopular enough as it is, and 
one never knows when a false step 
will ruin one's chances. By George, 
sir, do you know what defeated me 
two years ago? " warmly. " A pair 
of kid gloves. Yes, sir, a pair of kid 
gloves ! I wore them to a barbecue 
down on the river just before the elec- 
tion and they cost me first and last no 
less than five hundred votes." 

Adam laughed whimsically and 
then sighed. 

" I am not so sure, father, that the 
game is worth the candle," he said 
slowly. " What do you think of 
your chances of election ? " 

"I viust be elected!" said his 
father with a quick, short breath. " I 
swear to you, Adam, I will not live 
in the state if I am defeated and old 
Hilton is elected ! " 

A quick tap of the bell called them 
to the dining-room and the subject 
was dropped. After the morning 
meal was over Adam went for a long 
walk. He did not, much as he wished 
to see Eve, go in the direction of the 
Hilton plantation. For the present 
at least he thought best to consult his 
father's wishes. Deep in a day dream 
he did not heed the passing hours 
until a sudden peal of thunder aroused 
him to a sense of his surroundings. 

A dark cloud had passed over the 
sun and a giant shadow like the 
wings of a great bird began to creep 
broodingly over the wide fields. The 
shadow deepened and darkened — 
deepened and darkened again and a 
faint, tremulous sigh came from the 
black clouds rising so rapidly beyond 
the river. The breeze strengthened, 
then lulled; strengthened again, and 
gaining courage, swelled to a roar 



that lashed the branches of the trees 
together in such a mad frenzy that 
they groaned in pain and terror. 
The sun was blotted out. Adam 
looked about him hurriedly for shelter ; 
he had been deeper in the day dream 
than he had known. Near him was 
a tiny log cabin. He ran toward it 
as fast as possible, pursued by the sul- 
len roar of the storm and gained the 
welcome shelter just in time to escape 
the deluge of rain. 

While he was standing near one of 
the windows watching the falling rain 
he heard steps, the quick rush of 
skirts, and a young girl entered the 
building almost as hurriedly as he 
had done. One glance at the slender 
figure and the saucy face told him 
who she was, and he went forward 
eagerly to meet her. 

"Eve—" he cried, "dear little 
Eve! " 

With a fluttering color she allowed 
him to take both her little hands in 
his own. 

"I am glad to see you, Adam," 
she said with a quick, downward 
sweep of her pretty lashes. " It is 
Adam, is it not ? " 

He smiled at the childish assump- 
tion of doubt. 

' ' Are you in the habit of meet- 
ing handsome, distinguished-looking 
strangers evejy day," vi'ith a smile 
which her downcast eyes missed, 
" that you do not know the fairy 
prince when he really comes. Eve ? " 

She looked up at him shyly but did 
not speak. 

" It is pleasant to be with you again. 
Eve," he said with a tenderness in 
his voice that had not been there in 
the old childish days. 

She shrank away from him a little 
with a sigh. 

" Yet we must not forget, Adam," 
she said, ' ' that our positions are sadly 
changed. We were once friends. 
Nay," she said hurriedly, " far more 
than friends — cousins I know. Be- 
lieve me, Adam, it is best that we 
understand each other. My father, 
who is usually very gentle with me, 
would be furious if he knew even of 
this chance meeting. You cannot 
knovv^ how bitterly he speaks of your 

Adam flushed a little. 

" It seems rather hard, Eve," he 
said gravely, " that the sins of the 
father should be visited upon the son 
in this way. Colonel Hilton surely 
bears me no ill will." 

" I must go," she said, turning so 
that he could not see her face. ' ' This 
miserable business has made me 
very unhappy, Adam," her voice 
broke for a moment and a side glance 
at her dark e5'es showed him that 
they were brimming with tears, " but 
it cannot possibly be helped." 

"Is it not possible," said Adam, 
staying her by a gesture, " that after 
the election this unhappy feud may 
be stayed ? " 

She looked up at him hopelessly. 

" You do not know ;;/j/ father," she 
said simply. "Indeed I might go 
farther and say that I hardly think 
you know your own. Suppose the 
contest over and your father elected. 
Do you think that the soreness of my 
father's disappointment would make 
a reconciliation any the easier? Or, 
reverse the case. Suppose it is my 
father who is elected and your father 
who is defeated. Can you imagine 
Tom Delmar making the first over- 
tures tending to peace ? " 

Adam did not answer her as she 
touched his hand lightly and slipped 



away. He pondered deeply over the 
matter on his way home but no light 
came to him. 

The next morning he rode into 
town. He went far out of his way 
with the hope of meeting Eve but was 
disappointed. He found the usually 
dull, sleepy town transformed into ag- 
gressive activity. Speeches were to 
be delivered during the day by the 
candidates, with a dinner in the grove 
afterwards. The streets were thronged 
with country people and little groups 
of politicians congregated on the 
street corners and discussed the out- 
look. There was a bewildering array 
of pretty girls, too — comely, rosy- 
cheeked damsels with stiffly-starched 
white dresses and knots of gay ribbon. 

Many old friends greeted Adam 
warmly. Every one had a pleasant 
word for the mischievous lad who had 
been away from home so long. Adam 
with his father had just joined a group 
of men who were discussing the storm 
of the day before when a sudden, con- 
strained silence fell upon the crowd 
and Adam looking up saw a carriage 
approaching with Colonel Hilton and 
his daughter inside. 

He forgot the family feud and went 
forward eagerly to meet them. He 
had never bad any particular regard 
for the colonel — it is doubtful if the 
man was capable of inspiring such a 
sentiment in anybody — but the lad 
had always respected him for his un- 
swerving integrity and strong sense of 

Young Delmar held out his hand as 
he approached and the carriage came 
to a standstill. Colonel Hilton had 
recognized him at once, Adam felt 
sure of that, but he slowly, calmly 
ignored the young man's outstretched 
hand, and with a slight bow that was 

hardly perceptible and that was far 
more insulting than any words he 
could have uttered, he brushed by 
him rudely but coolly and lifting Kve 
from her seat and drawing her hand 
through his arm, he vanished in the 
fast-gathering crowd. 

Adam caught a pleading, fright- 
ened glance from a pair of tender, 
dark eyes as Eve passed him, and was 
gentleman enough to refrain from add- 
ing to her distress by resenting just 
then the public insult he had re- 
ceived. He simply raised his hat 
courteously and turned quietly away. 

" He is a darned 'ristocrat, maj'the 
devil take him," said a voice. 

Adam wheeled suddenly and faced 
a man who, arm in arm with Mr. Del- 
mar, was standing just behind him. 

" He is a gentleman," said Adam 
curtly, " and I am another, and gen- 
tlemen allow no interference with 
their private affairs." 

Mr. Delmar looked frightened. 

" You have not the pleasure of an 
acquaintance with this gentleman, 
Adam, ' ' he said apologetically. "This 
is my particular friend, Arnold Tay- 
lor. I am sure that nothing he could 
ever say to anj- of my family could be 
anything but welcome." 

Adam looked at Arnold Taylor 
curiously. This, then, was the Na- 
poleon of modern political matters in 
the largest county of the — th district 
of the state of Arkansas. A man 
brutal and low in every sense of the 
word and yet who enjoyed the proud 
distinction of being able to control 
the votes of five hundred men, black 
and white, as ignorant, low, and brutal 
as himself. What a travesty upon 
the boasted purity of the ballot box ! 

Adam felt disgusted and ashamed 
of his country. Ashamed of his 



country — and doubly, trebly ashamed 
of his father that he should truckfe 
to this base, ignorant man and 
his dirty crew. He longed to knock 
Taylor down as he stood with that 
look of low cunning in his eyes, and, 
unable to speak without showing his 
indignation, he turned on his heel and 
went away without a word. 

Tom Delmar evidently had great 
faith in his ally for they conversed for 
some time before they separated. Two 
hours later, Adam, walking restlessly 
about saw Taylor again. He was talk- 
ing confidentiall}^ this time with the 
Democratic nominee, and Adam was 
glad to see that Colonel Hilton had the 
grace to look most heartily ashamed 
of himself. 

Ten minutes later, joining the crowd 
that was thronging about the stand 
to hear the speeches, Adam had time 
to exchange a word or two with his 

" I am so sorry, Adam," said Tom 
Delmar nervously, " that you had the 
ill luck to offendTaylor this morning. 
It is impossible to overestimate the 
power of that man's influence should 
he only choose to exert it. I under- 
stand that he has just been seen talk- 
ing to the Democratic nominee. I 
felt so sure of him, too." 

"Father," said Adam solemnly, 
" the man who trusts himself to that 
vile trickster will find himself doubly 
betrayed. I " 

His voice was drowned in a storm 
of cheers as the band played ' ' Dixie, ' ' 
and Colonel Hilton was led out upon 
the platform. He coughed slightly, 
laid one hand impressively upon his 
chest with a word or two in reference 
to the old wound received on the " his- 
toric field of Gettysburg," found 
some difficulty in speaking on account 

of his emotion, and the storm of cheers 
swelled into a tempest of shouts, 
the band played "Dixie" more 
madly than ever, while the Democrats 
glared defiance at the world — meaning 
the pitiful few who were not fully 
persuaded of the colossal brain and 
immaculate purity of the Democratic 
nominee — the flesh, synonymous of 
the Republicans — and the devil, 
meaning, of course, the third party. 

It was wnth difficulty that the 
enthusiasm of the crowd was quieted 
and the colonel allowed to begin his 
speech. It was leceived as such 
things usually are — with tumultuous 
cheers from his friends and hisses, 
cat-calls, and invidious remarks in 
the most eloquent part of his har- 
rangue by his enemies. 

He talked until he had been called 
down for the second time and then re- 
luctantly retired followed by loud 
applause and a few spasmodic notes 
from the band, and Mr. Delmar 
walked slowly forward. 

Adam felt sorry for his father be- 
fore he began his speech ; he felt sor- 
rier for him when it was finished, for 
he knew what a trial it must be for 
Tom Delmar, aristocrat to his finger 
tips, to stand before an audience com- 
posed of his friends and neighbors, 
and expound a doctrine which but 
few of his associates could endorse or 

He in his turn was followed by 
John Snyder the Republican nomi- 
inee. Snyder was a man of some 
ability and popular enough to be lis- 
tened to with respect. When he had 
finished his speech and the crowd was 
dispersing Adam by a mere chance 
found himself by his side just as he 
passed the ubiquitous Taylor. 

Snyder looked full in Taylor's face 



without a sign of recognition and 
walked past as though he had not 
seen him. "There is something 
wrong about that," said Adam to 

The time flew swiftly bj'' and the 
day of the election dawned. Adam 
had met Eve frequently and a love 
deep and lasting had grown up be- 
tween them. After all it was nothing 
new — only a renewal of the old affec- 
tion that had always existed in their 
hearts for each other. Adam asked 
her for no promise for they were both 
too young for that, but he felt as as- 
sured of her faith and constancy as of 
his owm. 

He had pleaded with her to be al- 
lowed to tell her father and his own 
of their mutual love but he was only 
answered by her tears. Alas, Eve 
knew better than he of the difficulties 
that lay before them. 

The day before the election, how- 
ever, Adam determined to take mat- 
ters in his own hands since he could 
reason with Eve no longer. He 
would wait only three days and by 
that time the returns would be in and 
one of the candidates would be in 
a glorious good humor. Adam smiled 
grimly as he thought of Colonel Hil- 
ton's rage and of his father's disap- 

He accompanied his father to town 
after a huriied breakfast on the morn- 
ing of the election. By eleven o'clock 
the streets of the little village were 
crowded with people who having 
voted in their own cownships had 
come to town in order to get the 
news. A crowd was not allowed 
about the polls but the anxious ones 
got as near as possible. 

Up to twelve o'clock, not one of the 
men whom Delmar had humorously 

G.M.— 19 

styled " Taylor's brigade " had voted, 
and Taylor himself could not be 
found. He had promised Delmar to 
be on hand early. He had, it is perhaps 
needless to say, made the same prom- 
ise to Hilton, but he could not have 
disappeared more completely had the 
ground opened and swallowed him up. 

His "brigade" loitered idly about 
the streets. The adherents of the 
Democratic cause wore blue ribbon 
badges, the third party men knots of 
scarlet, and the Republicans, of whom 
there were more than the other two 
parties had suspected, wore orange. 
The Taylor "brigade" wore neither 
of the three colors but stalked about 
self-conscious and proud of their im- 
portance in the brief political world. 

Runners were sent out in every 
direction in search of Taylor but it 
was of no use. Inquiries at his house 
elicited the fact that he had not been 
seen since daylight. " He might be 
down to his son's place in the aige of 
Bradley county," his wife said, "he 
had been aimin' to go for quite a 

One o'clock came and no Taylor. 
Two o'clock and no Taylor, and three 
o'clock and no Taylor. 

At ten minutes past three Snyder 
came on the scene, cool and collected 
and as much at his ease as a man 
could possibly be. A few minutes 
afterwards a slight stir was noticeable 
in the lower part of the town and ' ' Tay- 
lor's brigade," a line of men that 
struck dismay to the hearts of Dem- 
ocrats and third men alike, marched 
up to the polls, every man flying the 
yellow ensign of the Republican 

"Well, by George!" said Tom 
Delmar, only he didn't use precisely 
those words. He had been a mem- 



ber of the church for years, so his 
profanity was all the more inexcus- 

"I should consider it more of an 
honor to be defeated by such men 
than to be elected by them," said 

Delmar smiled bitterly. 

" It is an honor which I shall not 
bear alone," he said. " Only look at 
Hilton! " 

Hilton's appearance was ludicrous 
enough. Between his desire to ap- 
pear unconscious that there had been 
any treachery and his intense morti- 
iication his face was a study. 

When the votes were counted that 
night and the returns from the differ- 
-ent townships came in next day. it 
was ascertained that the home county 
of the two candidates had gone over- 
whelmingly for Snyder. Nor were 
the official returns when they came in 
any more encouraging. The district, 
which had been the stronghold of 
Democracy for years and years, had 
gone Republican beyond a doubt. 
Snyder was not barely elected. He 
almost doubled the vote of either of 
bis opponents. 

On the third night after the election 
Delmar and Hilton spoke to each 
other for the first time in over two 
years. The Republicans were hav- 
ing a jollification over in town. Faint 
to the ears of the defeated candidates 
who had halted at the gate of Hilton's 
plantation, came the music of the 
band and the shouts of the victors, 
among whom "Taylor's brigade" 
were conspicuous, and through the 
moonlight the glimmer of torches 

Colonel Hilton did not express the 
penitence for the past which one 
might have expected. He only said : 

' ' Well, Tom , it does beat the devil ! ' ' 
and Tom expressed the opinion in 
rather stronger words, if possible, that 
he believed you, it did. 

But the breath of the wild grapes 
was sweet on the air, and the glory 
of the moonlight silvered the rose- 
scented garden with a priceless wed- 
ding veil, a faint breath stirred the 
cedar branches and Adam and Eve 
strayed down the moonlit walk into 
Eden, into which it is confidently be- 
lieved and expected that politics (and 
the devil) can never enter. 


By Helen Philbrook Patten. 

When birds fly south and flames the hills adorn, 
And when the chill frost- mists pervade the morn ; 
When blooms are gone which glorious Summer brought. 
Comes fitful Nature's fairest afterthought. 

A little flower, dark, silent, and close-.sealed ; 
Within its clasping fingers unrevealed 
Lies its own secret, hidden safe from view, 
Till Autumn's chill despoils this bud of blue. 


Compiled by C F. Burge. 

HOUGH there are entered 
in the history of the town 
some twelve hundred 
marriages, as performed 
either by minister or jus- 
tice of the peace from 1743 to 1879, 
we find quite a number (100 or more) 
on record between 1740 and iS5othat 
probably have not seen print. In 
these da5's of societies of record and 
geneological research it is helpful to 
have such data in a collected form. 
These additional marriages are pre- 
sented below, the name of the person 
officiating, the date of the marriage, 
and the names and residences of the 
contracting parties being given . When 
the name of no town appears Hollis 
should be understood : 


1755. Nov. 28. Joshua Smith and 
Melissent Brooks, Townsend, Mass. 

1756. June 15. Ebenezer Blood 
and Sarah Fisk, both of No. i 


1756. Nov. 18. Simeon VVyman 
and Thankful Curtis, both of Dun- 

1757. Dec. 9. John Brown and 
Anne Hobbs, both of No. i (Mason). 

1759- Jan. 17. Ezekiel Jewettand 
Hannah Platts, both of Rindge. 

1760. June 12. John Hobart and 
Jemina Hobart, both of Dunstable. 

1760. June 17. William Eliot and 
H. Robbins Hobart, both of No. i 

1762. Nov. 16. Edmond Gardner 
of Northfield and Rebecca Wooley of 

1765. April 25. Jonathan Will- 
iams of No. I and Rachel Eliot of 
Pepperell, Mass. 

1765. May 15. Lemuel Spaulding 
and Sarah Tarbell, both of No. i 

1774. Feb. 24. Jonathan Saw5'er of 
Amherst and Isabel Grimes of Groton, 

1774. Aug. Mr. (Rev.) William 
Evans and Hannah Shelcock. 

1774. Oct. 15. Lieut. Amos Fiske 
of Amherst and Mrs. Mary Wheeler 
of Concord. 

1776. Nov. 14. Adford Jaquith 
and Olive Davis, both of Dunstable, 

1776. Oct. 18. Benjamin Knowl- 
ton of New Ipswich and Abigail 

1777. June 26. Charity Killicutt 
and Sibbel Roolf, both of Dunstable. 

1778. April 21. David Davidson 
and Elizabeth Dickey, both of Brook- 

1778. Maj^ 6. Swallow Tucker 
Roby of Brookline and Anna Sander- 
son of Pepperell, Mass. 

1779. April 9. Richard Stevens 
and Mary Lovejoy, of Pepperell, 

1 78 1. Mar. 12. David Putman 
and Lify Paine, both of Chelmsford, 

1 78 1. Nov. 12. Jonathan Wyman 



of Deering and Martha Symonds of 

.1782. July 4. Oliver Cumings, 
Jr., and Betty Bayley, both of Dun- 

1784. Dec. 2. Jacob Jewett of Gil- 
tnantou and Ruth Jewett. 

1785. April 28. John Case of Or- 
ford and Mary Mead. 

1785. Mar. 5. Edmund Tarbell 
and Mary Elliott, both of Mason. 

1785. April 13. Bezalecl Sawyer 
of Jaffrey and Jerusha Williams of 
Pepperell, Mass. 


1759. Feb. 7. William Clary and 
Margrat Taggard. 

1750. April 26. James Wethay 
and Sarah Parker. 

1761. Sept. 23. Robert Ranken 
and Ruth Shattuck (a permit from 
Gov. WentworthJ. 

Mem. — Sept. 15, 1775. Minot 
Farmer, a Revolutionary soldier, by 
permit from Governor Wentworth, 
married Abigail Barron, by Samuel 
Wentworth, Esq. (Hollis Records.) 


1801. Nov. 26. William Bayley 
King and Hannah Duncklee of Am- 

1801. Aug. 16. Asahel Ranger of 
Hollis and Hannah Hard}' of Dun- 
stable, Mass. 

1 801. Sept. II. Timothy Wheeler, 
Jr., and Betty Beverly, both of Am- 

1807. Feb. 25. Asahel Fowler and 
Mary Farley, both of Hebron. 

1814. Sept. 13. Israel Thomas 
and Sally Nevens, both of Amherst. 

1816. April 18. Jeremiah Preston 
and Anna Proctor, both of Mason. 

1818. Mar. 12. Otis Shep(p)ard 
and Susan Nevens, both of Bedford. 

1818. Sept. 22. John B. Smith and 
Elizabeth Harwood, both of Dun- 

1818. Oct. 7. John P. Coffin and 
Hannah Shattuck, both of Dunsta- 

1818. Dec. 31, Thanksgiving day. 
Robert Weasley of Dublin and Mrs. 
Ruth Fletcher of Milford. 

18 19. Feb. 9. Eben Gilson and 
Mary Shattuck, both of Dunstable. 

1820. Feb. 24. Jonathan Morse 
of Hebron and Jerusha Gilson of 

1821. Feb. 22. James M. Clark of 
Sanbornton and Hannah Fisk of Dun- 

182 1. Mar. I. Enoch Jewett, Jr., 
of Litchfield and Hannah Wright of 

1823. April 21. Eleazer Ball and 
Hepzibah Jaquith of Groton, Mass. 

1823. July 17. Benjamin Conant 
of Milford and Elizabeth Bell of Dun- 

1823. Aug. 26. Samuel S. Bodwill 
of Nottingham West (1830 Hudson) 
and Hannah Putnam of Dunstable. 

1823. Feb. Mischio Tubbs of Peter- 
borough and Belinda Fisk of Dunsta- 
ble, Mass. 

1824. April 6. Jonas Smith and 
Anna Brooks, both of Brookline. 

1824. June 8. Luther Robbins and 
Mary Newton, both of Dunstable. 

1824. Dec. 30. Asa Pierce of Pep- 
perell, Mass., and Mary Hale of Dun- 

1825. Oct. 10. Charles Melendy 
of Amherst and Nancy Smith. 

1825. Nov. 2. John Hemphill and 
Polly Gilson, both of Brookline. 

1825. Dec. II. Benjamin Davis 
and Sally Gilson, both of Dunstable. 



1826. Oct. 28. Reuel C. Corey 
and Mary Wright, both of Brookliiie. 

1827. Mar, 7. Jeremiah Beam and 
Sarah Fisk, both of Dunstable. 

1827. Jan. II. Benjamin Cutter, 
Jr., and Eliza Shattuck, both of Dun- 

1827. Mar. 16. Peter Woods of 
Merrimack and Lucy P. Smith of 

1827. April 10. James Jewell and 
Sail}' Putnam, both of Dunstable. 

1827. June 7. John Quinn of Low- 
ell, Mass., and Bridget Gilson of 

1838. July 7. Ethan Willoughby 
and Mrs. Julia Marshall of Hudson. 

1839. Aug. 7. Andrew Merriam of 
Middletown, Mass., and Ann Burge 
of Hollis. 

1848. Oct. I. Rev. Henry H. San- 
derson and Elizabeth Cummings. 


1835. June 23. Calvin R. Shed 
of (Hollis) Boston, Mass., and Thirza 
Bennett of Brookline. 

1835. Nov. 24. James Merrill and 
Dorothy Fifield, both of Dunstable. 

1835. Dec. 2. John S. Warner and 
Dorothy A. Pierce, both of New 

1836. Jan. 26. James Hutchinson, 
Jr., and Lucinda Read of Wilton. 

1836. Feb. 8. Franklin Shattuck 
and Rebecca Cooke, both of Dun- 

1837. June I. William G. Burge 
and Unice D. Lesley, both of Brook- 

1837. Sept. 25. Edward Wright 
and Hannah H. Lane, both of Dun- 

1837. Dec. 29. Henchman Syl- 
vester and Sarah Avery, both of Wil- 

1839. Nov. 9. Eldad Sawtelle and 
Mary S. Peterson, both of Brookline. 

1839. Sept. 23. Hanson Nichols 
and Sabrina Frances R. Durant, both 
of Lowell, Mass. 

1837. Nov. 9 (in Nashua). Jonas 
Woods and Sarah Jewett, both of 

1838. Mar. I (in Brookline). Al- 
pbeus Melendy and Rosella Bennett, 
both of Brookline. 


1837. Sept. 21. William Parker of 
Pepperell, Mass., and Martha Patch 
of Hollis. 

1839. Sept. 26. James Nutting of 
Nashua and Sarah Plaisted. 

1843. Sept. 24. Jonathan Mans- 
field and Eliza Ranger, both of 

1843. Nov. 23. John Jewett and 
Susan Douglass, both of Mont Vernon. 

1843. Dec. 7. Asaph B. Hemphill 
of Nashville and Harriet Ranger of 

1844. Feb. 18. Jesse Benton and 
Mehaly Smith. 

1844. Oct. 23. Winslow Shattuck 
and Sarah Harvey, both of Nashua. 

1846. Dec. 15. Leonard M. Clark 
and Seba H. Dow, both of Milford. 

1848. May II. David Goodwin of 
Milford and Lucy A. Mason of Wil- 

1849. Feb. 5. Amos Hildreath of 
Harvard, Mass., and Mary E. Stearns. 


1843. Sept. 12 (in Brookline). 
Simon Shattuck of Cambridge, Mass., 
and Betsey Green of Brookline. 

1843. Sept. 12 (in Brookline). Eli- 
akim Lawrence of Pepperell, Mass., 
and Augusta C. Shattuck of Brook- 



1843. Nov. 5. John McKean and 
Hannah Rideout, both of Nashville. 


1804. Dec. 2. Henry Terrell and 
Mrs. Ivewis Whitney, both of Dun- 


1806. Oct. 20. Melvin Robbins 
and Polly Johnson, both of Dun- 

1811. Feb. 13. Stephen Dow, Jr., 
and Mehitabel Hall, both of Hollis. 


1848. Nehemiah Woods and P^liza 
Ann Woods. 


1849. Mar. II (in Hollis). Ezra S. 
Wright and Nancy R. Jewett. 


1 819. Aug. 31. Daniel Tuttle and 
Mary Fitzgerald Bangs, both of Bos- 
ton, Mass. 

182 1. Oct. 18. Jonathan P. Woods 
and lyucinda Parker, both of Hollis. 


1817. Mar. 13. Nathaniel Dow 
and Mary Ames, both of Hollis. 


1817. Jan. 29. Peter Daws and 
Harriet Brown, both of Hollis. 

181 7. Mar. 9. John Armstrong 
and Rebecca Hobart, both of Hollis. 

1818. Feb. 5. Asa Jaquith and 
Esther Phelps, both of Hollis. 

1818. Feb. 3. Caleb Eastman and 
Chloe Packard, both of Hollis. 

1819. Feb. 14. Oliver Wilkins and 
Betsey Butterfield, both of Hollis. 

1819. May 20. Edward Shaw and 
Betsey Standley, both of Hollis. 

18 19. Nov. 2. Cato Freeman and 
Mary Wheeler, both of Hollis. 

18 19. Nov. 7. Willard Robbins 
and Abigail Proctor, both of Dun- 

1 82 1. Feb. 22. Joseph Rideout, 
Jr., and Sukey Ranger, both of Hollis. 


1830. Nov. 16. Leonard Combs 
and Eucinda Dunckle of Hollis. 

1830. Dec. 7. Capt. John Holden 
and Mrs. Eydia Jewell. 

1S30. Dec. 21. Capt. Daniel Wy- 
man of Hillsborough and Eouisa 
Moour of Hollis. 

By Minnie L. Randall. 

The wine of your sweet love is at my lips, 

And hot blood surges e'en to finger-tips. 

I'll drink the cup, sweetheart, looking in your dear eyes, 

My senses wrapped in bliss divine, till eager passion dies, 

And all its mad desire is hushed to deepest rest. 

Weary with sweet delights, asleep upon your breast. 


By Bela Chapiii. 

I love the farm, the good old farm, 

I would not from it roam ; 
No place for me has such a charm 

As this my homestead home ; 
It is the one dear spot to me, 
From city noise and turmoil free. 

These buildings that another made, 

These fields so free to till ; 
The orchard trees, the greenwood .shade. 

And every pasture hill ; 
The brook that winds adown the vale — 
My love for these shall never fail. 

The dear old farm in summer day 

Is pleasing everywhere ; 
How sweet the scent of new-made"hay. 

How pure the open air ; 
How beautiful the clover bloom 
That giveth out a rich perfume. 

The smiling fields of grass and grain, 

The thrifty corn and tall, 
These oft inspire my rural strain 

And give me joy wathal ; 
And much good fruit my orchard_bears, 
The plums, the apples, and the pears. 

I love the farm through all the year, 

Whatever may betide ; 
It is a spot to me most dear — 

No home I ask beside. 
May I with one beloved and true 
Say never to my farm adieu. 

While here I live in joy and health 

The years pass gently by ; 
I do not seek for stores of wealth 

Save what my fields supply ; 
And here in peace I fain would stay 
Till death shall take me hence away. 


By E. P. TIw7npsofi . 

T is not with the intention 
of writing a memorial of 
the various persons who 
have held the office of 
register of deeds and 
clerk of court that I have put on 
paper the following, but rather with 
the idea of gathering together in some 
permanent form the various facts 
which it has taken CQUsiderable time 
to collect. 

As will be seen Belknap county 
has had but six registers and nine 
clerks during its existence. 

By an act of the legislature, ap- 
proved December 23, 1840, the county 
of Strafford was divided, and the new 
counties of Belknap and Carroll were 
constituted, the act to take effect on 
the first day of January, 1841, with 
the provision that " all officers to be 
appointed for said counties shall and 
may be appointed, commissioned and 
qualified at any time after the passage 
of this act." It was also provided in 
said act that "the justices of the 
Court of Common Peas for said county 
of Strafford, at the next term thereof 
shall appoint some suitable persons to 
perform the duties of Treasurers and 
Registers of Deeds for said counties 
of Belknap and Carroll respectively, 
who shall hold their respective offices 
until persons shall be elected thereto 
at the next annual election and qual- 
fied to enter on the duties thereof." 


In pursuance of the provisions of 
that act the court of common pleas 
for the county of Strafford, at the 
January term, 1841, appointed Na- 
thaniel Edgerly, Esq., of Gilmanton, 
register of deeds for the count)^ of 
Belknap. On the 27th day of Janu- 
ary, 1841, Mr. Edgerly took the oath 
of office before Thomas Cogswell and 
Jonathan T. Coffin and assumed the 
duties of the office, the first deed being 
recorded Feburary 2, 1841. Mr. 
Edgeil}' held the office until August 
17. 1859- a period of eighteen years, 
seven and a half months, when he was 
succeeded by Jacob P. Boody, who 
commenced his duties August 18, 
1859, and continued to hold the office 
by reelections until he died, February 
28, 18S0, a period of twenty years, 
six months, and ten days. He was 
succeeded by Rufus S. Eewis of New 
Hampton, who was appointed hy the 
court, March 6, 1880, to fill the un- 
expired term. His appointment was 
recorded March 8, but he did not take 
the oath of office until March 16, al- 
though he seems to have performed 
the duties of the office from the date 
of his appointment. He was subse- 
quently elected in November, 1880, 
for the term expiring July i, 1883, 
and held the office until the close of 
the term, about three years and four 



months. On July i, 1883, he was 
succeeded by John F. Laighton, who 
was reelected for three successive 
terms and held the office until he re- 
signed February 28, 1891, a period of 
seven years and eight months. He 
was succeeded by George B. Lane, 
who commenced his duties March i, 
1891, and continued to April i, 1893, 
a little over two years. He was suc- 
ceeded by the present incumbent, 
Martin B. Plummer, who commenced 
his duties April i, 1893. 


The act creating the county of 
Belknap also provided that " It shall 
be the duty of the Court of Common 
Pleas for said county of Belknap on 
or before the first day of January, 
1841, to appoint a Clerk of said Court, 
who shall give bonds and immediately 
after said first day of January, 1841, 
enter upon the duties of his office." 
There are in the office no records of 
the appointments or resignations of 
clerks up to the resignation of Martin 
A. Haynes in 1883, so that it is im- 
possible to tell the exact times or rea- 
sons for a change in the clerks. I 
have been able, however, to obtain, 
from various sources, the approximate 
dates of the resignations and appoint- 
ments. The first clerk was Ebenezer 
S. Lawrence, who was appointed to 
that office about January first. The 
first duty which he performed, bearing 
a date, was the recording, January 
II, 1841, of a sheriff's appointment 
of a deputy. Mr. Lawrence contin- 
ued to hold the office until some time 
between October 14, 1851, the last 
date on which his name appears at- 
tached to a paper bearing a date, and 
November 3, 1851, when he resigned 
the office, having held the same for a 

period of ten years and ten months. 
He was succeeded by Samuel C. Bald- 
win, whose appointment was between 
those dates, his name appearing for 
the first time on November 3. He 
held the office until May i, 1856, a 
period of four years and six months. 
The next clerk was Charles S. Gale, 
whose first signature appears Ma}' 2, 
1856, and who held the office until he 
died, April 19, 1857, — ^ little less 
than one year. He was succeeded 
by Samuel C. Clark of Gilford, who 
wrote in a diary kept by him, "Re- 
ceived commission and sworn in May 
9, 1877." Mr. Clark held the office 
until about September 11, 1874, a 
period of seventeen years and four 
months, having been legislated out of 
the office b}' an act of the June ses- 
sion, 1874, which took effect August 
17 of the same year. Under the 
new law Orsino A. J. Vaughan was 
appointed to fill the office, his bond 
being dated September 11, 1874, and 
continued to hold the office until his 
death, April 30j-,^d.^?:6, a little over a 
year and^ one half. Martin A. 
Haynes was soon after appointed and 
held the office until ht^Yesigned, Feb- 
ruary I, 1883, a periof^^of six years 
an4 nine months. Her^f^s followed 
\yb George A. Emerson, who was ap- 
pointed February i,' 1883, and re- 
^giied September 23, 1884. The 
position was next filled by Stephen 
S.ijewett, who was appointed Septem- 
ber 2*35^1884, and immediately com- 
menced his duties which he continued 
until January 13, 1885. He was suc- 
ceeded by E. P. Thompson, whose 
appointment was dated January i, 
1885, and who qualified and entered 
upon the duties of his office January 
13, and has since continued in the 


By Plui'be Harriinan Golden. 

Sweeter than maid's sweetest notes 

Voiced in minor strain, 
Sweeter than high belfry chimes 

Dulcet through the rain, 

Sweeter than the stream's quaint tales 

Whispered to the dell, 
Sweeter than the murmuring 

Of some sea-born shell, 

Sweeter than the sigh of rose 

From her heart of gold. 
Sweeter than the parting troths 

By true lovers told, 

Sweeter than ipght's quietude, — 

Ah ! full sweet and low 
Is the song the pine-tops sing 

When soft breezes blow ! 



By Miriam E. Drake. 

" The summer sun is sinking low, 
Only the treetops redden and glow, 
Only the weather cock on the spire 
Of the neighboring church is a flame of fire, 
All is in shadow below." 

^HE sunlight has left the At the foot of the hill lies the quiet 

village and valley, and is town. Far to the north stretches the 

slowly dim bingthe narrow valley, and surrounding all, 

mountain. A young man the mountains stand like sentinels, 

stands upon a hill where The sun touches only their tops now. 

he has come to get away from people. A mist rises from the river and spreads 

His lips are firmly set and the fire from hill to hill, and the light shines 

that gleams from the dark brown eyes through, casting a red glow over trees 

tells of a spirit stirred to its very and houses. Across the river and 

depths. He paces back and forth in fields comes the clear, sweet vesper 

the narrow path, heeding nothing, bell. The young man pauses, then 

seeing nothing. resumes his restless walking with re- 


newed energy. The birds twitter Lights from the village and farm 

softly in the trees near by. From the houses gleam in the twilight. A full 

distance the whippoorwill gives his moon rises, lending softness to the 

plaintive call. The sun has set. shades of night. Nature's children 

The light in the mist is yellow now. are asleep. ' ' Heaven is touching earth 

The shrill whistle from the locomo- with rest." The peace that comes at 

tive breaks the stillness as it threads evening falls upon the lonely figure, 

its way down the valley, rumbles the restless footsteps cease and the 

across the bridge and is gone, leaving hard lines of the face relax, then sud- 

a long, white trail of smoke and denly jo}^ and hope flash across the 

stillness once more. The shadows features. A battle is over ; a victory 

deepen ; the mist is gray now. won. 


By Mosis Gage Sliirlcy. 

" God's country," it is where the trees 
Sway lightly in the passing breeze, 
And where the sunshine glimmers through 
Their foliage wet with the morning dew. 

" God's country," it is where the birds 
Sing sweeter songs than poet's words, 
And where the cloud-wrapt shadows rest 
Upon each hill and mountain crest. 

" God's country," it is where the sky 
Seems to bend o'er us lovingly, 
And mingling with the outward view 
Takes on a soft ethereal hue. 

" God's country," it is where the hours 
Are wrapped with gladness and with flowers ; 
'Tis where the emerald meadows dream. 
And peace broods o'er each vale and stream. 

"God's country," it is where the stars 
At eve shine through the sunset bars. 
And night comes down and bids us rest 
With snowy poppies on her breast'. 

" God's country," it is where we bide. 
And hope is large and faith is wide. 
And where the gates to heaven must swing 
When endeth here our journeying. 


By A7-tJutr F. Suf/iner, M. D. 

T is with mingled pleasure 
and pain that I take up 
the task of narrating for 
the first time the great- 
est experience of my 
somewhat adventurous life. When 
it happened I was quite young but 
now my children are old enough 
to ask me in wonder why my 
hair is white although they notice 
that I am not much older than the 
middle-aged parents of their play- 
mates. I am writing this sketch for 
them ; also for the sake of placing on 
record the various incidents con- 
nected with this part of my life. 

To commence, I will state that I 
graduated from college at the usual 
age and after a few more years of 
special study I became a member of 
the medical profession. Success in 
the practice of my chosen calling was 
satisfactory. The time not actuall}^ 
devoted to such work was agreeably 
spent in general study and scientific 
investigation. In fact, I was always 
more anxious to succeed in the scien- 
tific field than to bury myself in a 
busy routine life of general practice. 
By instinct my mind naturally turned 
towards metaphysical problems and 
by dint of hard work I became a rec- 
ognized authority in scientific circles 
upon psychological phenomena. I 
look back now and see how I tugged 
at the unsolvable problems of meta- 
physics and can easily understand 
how through fretting and strained 
mental application I completely broke 
down in bodily health. 

Then followed the tortures of 
nervous collapse and masculine hys- 

teria. Although a physician and 
possessing full knowledge of this mon- 
strous disorder I found" the actual 
possession far beyond the sense of 
what I imagined it might be. I sin- 
cerely extend my sympathy to those 
who are now in this fiery furnace with 
its blistering tortures of mind. Dur- 
ing my illness I was carried from the 
city to a sanatorium on Eong Island 
sound. It Was many months before 
I resumed my former metaphysical 

It chanced that there combined at 
this time two things that lead to the 
events which I have decided to place 
on record. The first was the coming 
into my hands of an old number of a 
magazine containing an article about 
the "Adepts of India and the Occult 
Phenomena of the East." From this I 
eagerly sought and soon had as full 
knowledge of this .subject as could be 
gleaned from our Western literature. 
The wonderful performances of the 
Hindus and the weird tales that the 
winds wafted out of Thibet set me by 
the ears. To see some of these won- 
ders became a desire that fired my 
imagination. Fortunately or unfor- 
tunately, this must be decided later, 
while investigating this subject, I re- 
ceived a letter from India. It was 
from a medical classmate who, a few 
years since, had gone to Burmah as a 
medical missionary. I had heard 
from him once before but had neg- 
lected to answer his letter. This was 
another friendly letter. Why it should 
arrive at just this time when my mind 
was absorbed in the study of oriental 
occultism and why he should urge me 



to visit him, I cannot even nov^ ex- 
plain. At the time I thought it might 
be a manifestation of the very same 
occult power which I was studying. 
I t:ould imagine some old mahatraa 
coming en rapport with my astral 
body and had. combined these circum- 
stances. This, of course, was merely 
a fancy, but the desire to go to this 
wonderland bqjcame a possession with 
me. The following is the letter I 
received : 

Khela p. O., Dist. Almora, Bhot., 

October 31. 1879. 
My Dear Doctor : 

I have been thinking repeatedly about you of 
late and have just read in a home paper of your 
breakdown. I am firm in the idea that you 
would be greatly benefited by a trip to the far 
East, for the sake of physical regeneration and 
especially because your studies have been along 
the line of orientalism. To-morrow our postal 
arrangements are off for the season, so this will 
be my last chance to send down mail from the 
mountains for several months. Since I returned 
to India m3' station has been deep in the Hima- 
layan mountains. I am ten days' marches from 
Almora, which I think you can find on the map 
of your atlas. Almora is four days in, so we 
are fourteen days from the nearest railroad sta- 
tion. The climate here, 9,000 feet, is pure and 
bracing. Every year we itinerate among the 
villages and usually climb the mountains and 
descend a little into Thibet. But they are not 
very hospitable to us over there. Although 
famine has appeared again on the plains we are 
in a land of plenty. If you will come we shall 
be rejoiced to welcome you at our mountain 
home. With kind regards to the old friends, etc. 

To this kind letter I hurried off the 
following reply : 

Humboldt S.\natorium,Long Island Sound, 

November 30, 1879. 
My Dear Jack : 

Yours of the 31st ult. at hand and contents 
read with the wildest of pleasure. I hasten to 
reply to inform you that I shall not wait for a sec- 
ond invitation to visit you in far-ofi India, but 
shall start at once. Sooner or later I shall be with 
you at your home and until then let us save our 
talk. With many thanks and kind regards to 
your family, etc. 

I need not dwell upon the ocean trip 
to Bombay ; the pleasant acquaint- 

ances made and the contact with 
all sorts and conditions of mankind. 
The restfulness of the voyage and the 
keen anticipation of coming pleasures 
put me in fine trim for my work. 

To become acclimated and espe- 
cially to avoid the jungle fever, I 
made the journey by short stages 
towards the mountains. Through 
letters of introduction I met the lead- 
ing English and native scholars of 
India and by them was correctly ad- 
vised as to the means and ways to 
witness the various occult phenomena 
which has made this land famous. I 
was fortunate in my search for the 
classic exhibitions and can truthfully 
add my testimony to their actual ex- 

These phenomena are chiefly pro- 
duced by Indian fakirs and religious 
teachers or fanatics. They suddenly 
appear in a town from out of the wil- 
derness, and, gathering the crowd 
about them, perform these modern 
miracles to prove their claim to divine 

In this way I saw the newly-planted 
seed grow into a plant and blossom in 
a few moments. I saw the head of a 
child cut from its body and placed in 
a basket without injury, for the child 
appeared later and smilingly sought 
to collect the coin of the realm with 
dirty hands. I saw later a religious 
fanatic in a public square call into ex- 
istence from out the thin, hot air a 
tree ladened with fruit which was 
plucked and distributed to the by- 
standers. I was not fortunate enough 
to be near and did not receive any of 
the fruit. I have often wondered 
what it could have tasted like. In a 
twinkling of an eye the vision van- 
ished and there was left only the 
roughly-clad man who now began his 



religious exhortation to the crowd. 
I also saw a similar man throw into 
the air a rope sixty feet long. When 
it had become suspended perpendicu- 
larly in mid-air he climbed up it hand 
over hand until he was out of sight. 
Suddenly the spell is broken and there 
is naught to be seen but the fanatic 
with piercing eye and flowing beard, 
seated upon the ground. 

I mention these as among the most 
celebrated manifestations of occult 
power seen in India. If these were 
all I had witnessed I should have re- 
turned home thinking myself highly 
favored in my search. But the event 
in which I partook later fills me with 
mingled emotions. When I think of 
being the only white man that has 
ever witnessed it I confess to feeling 
a certain sense of importance, but as 
the terror of the scene recurs in my 
retrospection my head again whirls 
from fear and my trembling pen can 
scarcely trace the story of this crisis 
of mystery. 

Having spent about a half year in 
lower India I turn my face towards 
the mountains, to make the long- 
looked for visit upon my classmate. 
The trip up into the mountains with 
an Indian guide was the beginning of 
a most glorious experience in moun- 
tain climbing. Those Himalayan 
mountains ! Their sublime heights, 
their awful depths, and their infinite 
majesty ! clad in purple and crowned 
with the purest white. They bid one 
to hesitate and choose well his words 
when attempting to give utterance to 
the emotion in his soul. I have been 
in the Swiss Alps and thought them 
to be the expression of grace and 
beauty, but the ruggedness and 
strength and sublimity of the Hima- 
layas suggest only the power and 

might of the great unseen. So the 
first few months I spent at the little 
mission house high up in the moun- 
tains was like an ideal existence. It 
was a getting back to a great nature 
and a great God. The little village 
where we were situated was at one of 
the passes over the mountains from 
India to the Thibet. The even life of 
the mission was frequently enlivened 
by the arrival of bands of Hindu re- 
ligious pilgrims and itinerant mer- 
chantmen going from one country to 
the other. 

It was because of this location that 
I fell in with a party that was instru- 
mental in revealing to me the most 
astounding experience of my life. 
One dreamj' day there arrived in the 
village a group of religious Thibetans 
on their way to Lhasa, the forbidden 
city where dwells the immortal Grand 
Llama of whom the world knows 
nothing but vague conjectures. The 
leader of this company was a high 
priest of the faith and was next to the 
Grand Llama in ecclesiastical author- 
it}'. He had been on a diplomatic 
mission to China and was then on his 
return with his expensive retinue of 
officials and servants. During the 
journey he had been seized with an 
affection of the eyes that had grad- 
ually reduced his vision until he was 
in the valley of the shadow of blind- 
ness. All efforts to drive out the evil 
spirits, which were supposed to be the 
cause of the affliction, had failed and 
sacrificing religious prejudices he ap- 
plied to the medical missionar}^ for 
help. Fortunately I was of assistance 
and by means of simple measures had 
the satisfaction of seeing the trouble 
alleviated. The gratitude of the 
priest in being born again into the 
world of light seemed to know no 



bounds. His profuse offers of rich 
gifts were respectfully declined but 
not without a deliberate purpose. 
From him, I thought, I could learn 
the secret of the wonderful things I 
had seen in occultism. Carefully I 
interested the old priest in my desires 
and soon was gaining an insight that 
could not have been obtained in anj' 
other wa}'. It so happened that one 
<iay in a moment of over-confidence 
he informed me that in his retinue 
was one of the most celebrated mahat- 
mas of the orient whom he w^as con- 
ducting to the Grand lylama of Thibet, 
before whom he was to demonstrate 
his supernatural powers. What was 
further most remarkable, he wished 
to show his friendship to me by induc- 
ing the mahatma to display his secret 
powers of the .soul to me. This was 
an unheard-of proposition, as such 
things were for the faithful onlj?^, and 
held most sacred. 

My missionary friend repeatedly 
warned me against a too confiding iu- 
timac}^ with these people. Although 
I trusted implicitly the priest I ob- 
served a lack of friendship on the part 
of the young man. With this young 
adept I had but a casual acquaintance. 
Regardless of all persuasion by my 
missionary friend I thought the oppor- 
tunity too good to let escape. After 
much disagreeable urging and finally 
commanding from the priest, the 
3'oung man was induced to give me 
an exhibition of his subtle power of 
spirit over matter. He was disdainful 
towards me and his feeling of superi- 
ority was in every feature of his 

It was arranged that I should con- 
trive to be alone upon a certain day 
at the mission house and await his 
coming with fasting and the constant 

repetition of a written Hindu prayer. 
P^agerly I entered into the plan and 
the day arrived. I was alone at the 
mission house and at high noon the 
young man, with flowing white robes 
and silk turban, arrived unaccom- 
panied. He was about my own age, 
a high-caste Hindu, with the dark, 
mysterious ej-e and the expressionless 
face of a soul- absorbed fanatic. As 
we stood facing one anoiher for a mo- 
ment the Eastern and Western civil- 
izations met, but his attitude was one 
of silent contempt. 

There were but few words passed 
between us as he entered the room 
and motioned with authoritj'^ for me 
to close doors and shutters and shade 
the room from the fierce glare of a 
tropical sun. Seated upon a rug at 
one side of the room he rearranged his 
thin, white robe around his head and 

Referring to the object of his call, 
he requested that I submit to being 
blindfolded with the scarf he held 
towards me, and to remain seated 
under all circumstances in my posi- 
tion at the opposite end of the room. 
In this I readily complied and was 
soon being drawn into a conversation 
upon the material philosophies of our 
Western world. For a few moments 
his voice was musical, and the ryth- 
mical cadences, in my blindness, 
had a fascinating influence. Soon 
the voice changed and took on a 
sharper tone. With this change of 
manner I was conscious of some 
change going on in my surroundings. 
Instead of the hoodwinked darkness 
a soft, scintillating light glowed about 
me and graduall}^ I could see my 
occult friend seated upon the floor 
gazing intently upon me. He was 
caustically criticising the conceptions 



of time and space and the scientific 
knowledge that is a part of our 
thought and denouncing them in all 
their unspirituality. His voice was 
now the servant of angry emotions. 
All this time I was seeing him in the 
soft light which was also becoming 
intensified, and could detect his kin- 
dling wrath manifesting itself in linea- 
ment and gesture. I was aware that 
I was in the power of this strange 
man for I was unable to move scarcely 
a muscle, and could only stare with- 
out as much as winking at the rap- 
idly swaying spectacle before me. 
More rapidly came the words, more 
rapidly swayed the form, while 
brighter grew the light. My ears were 
surging and my eyes smarting. The 
fanatic finally worked himself into a 
magnificent frenzy. Anger and curses 
rained hot upon my head. 

At this point occurred the marvel. 
In the midst of the heightened vibrat- 
ing light of the room I saw the mad- 
man with glistening eyes and rapid 
gesticulations arise from his rug. His 
ravings now had me for its sole object 
and his sharp speech pierced me at 
every word. Staring in fear and 
trembling at the apparition I beheld 
a wonderful transformation unfolding 
itself. Whereas at first my Satanic 
friend had seemed clothed in his loose 
robe now all outward dress seemed to 
melt away into nothingness. As I 
strained my eyes toward the sight I 
beheld dissolving into the sparkling 
thin air the very flesh and sinew of 
this man until there was before me 
but the animated skeleton of a talking 
thing. The eyes did not leave their 
places but burned more brightly than 
the shimmering light of the room as 
the thundering denunciations were 
heaped upon my head, proceeding 

from moving jaws accompanied by 
waving arms. I well recall the terror 
of it all and my fruitless efforts to 
shrink from it, for I fully expected 
my reason to be blasted without being 
able to help myself. 

If the scene before me was terror- 
izing the act that followed was more 
so to my bursting brain. This screech- 
ing, living skeleton at the height of a 
period of terrible damnation suddenly 
fell to the floor and its separate pieces 
formed a heap of quivering, rattling 
bones. All but the hideous skull 
with its gleaming eyes and hissing 
voice. Floating to and fro in mid- air, 
its clanking jaws biting off huge 
pieces of blasphemy and hurling them 
at my very soul, the death- head shot 
toward me like a flash of lightning. 
The light of the room was flashing, 
and with a shriek as from out the bot- 
tomless pit this hideous thing com- 
manded me to die to infidelity or be 
blasted by Brahm throughout eter- 

This awful curse was the last I re- 
member except my wail of despair and 
fruitless efforts at escape from this 
frightful obsession. When I regained 
consciousness my missionary friend 
was beside me as I lay in bed. He 
had found my fainting form where I 
had fallen upon the floor. I was then 
still blinded with the scarf which I 
now show to my children as a souve- 
nir of this vivid experience in occult- 
ism in the Himalayan mountains. 

The Hindus had left town the same 
day and nothing was heard of them 
afterward except that they passed 
through the notch into Thibet. 

It was many weeks before I regained 
my physical equilibrium. My hair 
had turned as white as the snow- 
capped peaks. During those long 


weeks of recovery I was trying to to permit the the hate and jealousy of 

clear up the doubt in ray mind whether the young raahatma, because of my 

I had been repaid for the kindness to knowledge of their secrets, to vent 

the old Hindu priest, for I had seen itself in the great effort to blast my 

what no other man had ever witnessed existence forever. I shall never know, 

in the way of the occult, or whether but the question constantly rises to 

the racial and religious prejudices the surface, Does it pay to be too 

finally mastered him and caused him curious? 


By Fred Myron Colby. 

The past has enshrouded the dim-shaded garden. 

That hedged in the farmhouse set under the hill. 
With box-bordered walks winding round 'midst the posies, 

And fish-pond whose water coursed down from the rill. 
'Mid branches of verdure the orioles chanted, 

The bluebirds and robins had nests in its trees ; 
While yellow-winged butterflies hovered above it 

And flashed in the sunshine and sailed on the breeze. 

My memory walks through that lush, dewy garden. 

All laden with peppermint, sage-leaves and bay — 
What splendor of bloom and what richness of fruitage 

There dazzled our eyes through each clear summer day ! 
The poppies and peonies flamed with the sunset, 

The lilies and jessamines sparkled with dew, 
The beds of sweet-williams and bushes of roses 

With richest profusion in that garden grew. 

In hedges and clusters in that fragrant garden. 
The lilacs expanded their purple- pink sprays. 

And asters and hollyhocks grew up together 
And basked in the sunshine of September days. 

How well I remember the bees in the clover. 

The poise of their gauze-wings o'er sweet-smelling flowers; 

The fragrance of lavender, mint, and sweet grasses 
, Still perfumes the depths of those fay-haunted bowers. 

And still in my heart blooms the old-fashioned garden, 
Whose charm far surpassed the Hesperides fair. 

Where apples and peaches grew yellow and scarlet 
And breath of the grape-vines pervaded the air. 

Down deep in my memory's clearest reflection, 
Grows stronger and brighter as swift seasons go. 

The picture I cherish of grandmother's garden. 

Where old-fashioned flowers did bourgeon and blow. 
G. M.— 20 


The London Doll. 

Standing in a Hodgdon chair in the farlor oj 
the Varney House, Dover, N. H . 

By Annie Wentworth Baer 

That there are dolls aud dolls goes 
without saying but we are told that 
the word ' ' doll ' ' is not found in com- 
mon use in our language uniil the 
middle of the 1 8th century, and as far as 
the author of the above statement can 
discover, the word first appears in the 
Gentleman' s Magazine for September, 
1751, in the following: "Several 
dolls, with different dresses, made in 
St. James St., have been sent to 
the czarina to show the manner of 
dressing at present in fashion among 
English ladies." 

The origin of the word " doll " has 
never been fairly settled, but is be- 
lieved by many to come from " Dolly," 
the diminutive of Dorothy, a favorite 
name for girls in England two hun- 
dred years ago. What the Assyrian 

girls called the terracotta and ivory 
figures which have been brought to 
light, after twenty centuries, from the 
ruins of Babylon and Nineveh, we 
cannot say ; but they were evidently 
dolls or babies, as these playthings 
were called in the early times. 

When the grand Eondon dolls 
began to make the voyage across the 
Atlantic every girl in the colonies 
had her rag baby, with its hair of flax, 
and its home-made wardrobe ; and in 
this way our feminine ancestors 
learned to sew and fashion clothing. 
Woe to the day when learning to 
sew in the home went out of fashion. 
Even the dolls of to-day have ready- 
to-wear clothes, and little girls have 
no call to learn to use the needle or 
thimble. To be sure, when the Eon- 



don doll of which we write came to 
America she, too, was dressed iu the 
prevailing fashion of the time in 

This doll was sent from London to 
Boston as a present to the Rev. Dr. 
Mather Byles' niece, Sarah, when she 
was five years old ; later Sarah be- 
came the mother of the Rev. Dr. 
Jeremy Belknap. In 1767 Dr. Bel- 
knap came to Dover, and was pastor 
of the First church for nineteen years. 
Dr. Quint tells us that when the war 
of the Revolution began, Mr. Belknap 
succeeded with some difficulty in 
bringing his parents out of beleaguered 
Boston and into Dover. Perchance 
the London doll came with the family 
to Dover, at this time, and the father 
and mother lived on until they died, 
and were buried on Pine hill. 

The Rev. Mather Byles was in 
limbo at this time also. He was ac- 
cused of being a Tory, and of pray- 
ing for the king. On account of 
these charges he was separated from 
his parish, and, later, was publicly 
denounced in town-meeting. Soon 
after this he was placed on trial, pro- 
nounced guilty, and ordered to be con- 
fined on a guard ship, and in forty days 
to be sent to England with his family. 
This sentence, however, was not exe- 
cuted, but he was confined to his own 
house, where a guard was placed over 
it, which was afterward removed, but 
again replaced, and again dismissed, 
causing him to say that he was 
"guarded, regarded, and disre- 

Mrs. Sarah Belknap gave her Lon- 
don doll to her only daughter, Abigail, 
who was better known to Dover 
folk as " Miss Nabby," when she 
was five years old. 

Shadrach Hodgdon was connected 
with the early history of Dover, and 
his name is prominent for many years. 
He and his wife, Mary, and two chil- 
dren, Israel and Ann, were baptized, 
October 10, 1736, by Rev. Jonathan 
Gushing. He married Mary, daugh- 
ter of Joseph and Tanisen Ham, who 
was born December 28, 1706. Her 
father was killed by the Indians in 
the summer of 1723. This bit of 
folklore concerning the massacre 
is treasured by his descendants : 
" Joseph Ham, with three of his chil- 
dren, all girls, was in his field, some 
distance from the garrison, loading 
ha3^ The Indians came upon them, 
and shot the lather at once. The 
children were captured save Mary. 
She turned toward the garrison, but 
her way led through a cornfield, over 
walls, and rough places. She ran 
like a deer, but so close upon her was 
the pursuing savage, that she could 
hear his breath come in short gasps. 
Once, only, she glanced back, and 
she said afterward that his face was as 
white as her own. 

"The people at the garrison had 
been aroused by the shots fired, and 
hastening out to learn the cause, met 
Mary in her mad flight, almost ex- 
hausted, and rescued her. The 
Indian escaped. The two little girls 
were carried to Canada, and later 
their mother went there for them, and 
succeeded, after much trouble, in 
gaining possession of her children, 
and brought them back to Dover. 

"The returned captives said that 
the Indians taunted Mary's pursuer, 
telling him that he was outrun by a 
white squaw. He answered that she 
was not a squaw, she was a she 

Shadrach Hodgdon was a seafaring 



man, and was master of vessels sail- 
ing on the high seas. We find his 
name often in the early town and 
church records. He was one of 
the four deacons of the First church, 
who bought the " parcel of land, con- 
taining one fourth part of an acre, on 
which the present church stands, of 
Joseph Hanson, July lo, 1758, for, 
and in consideration of ye sum of six 
hundred Pounds Old Tenor." 

Before the incorporation of the 
parish as distinct from the town, its 
business was transacted by the town 
officers. From its incorporation, in 
1762, wardens were chosen annually, 
and Shadraph Hodgdon was one of 
the first three. He died November 
15. 1791. aged 82. 

While following the sea, at one time 
his cargo sent him to London, and he 
found about the wharves a lad, who 
asked to ship with him as cabin boy. 
He said that his name was John 
Riley, and that he was born in Lon- 
don, within sound of Bow bells, on 
January 27, 1752, and had always lived 
in the great city, but that his mother 
had died and his father had married 
again, and he was going to seek his 
fortune in the new world. Captain 
Hodgdon was pleased with the boj% 
and took him in his ship on the home- 
ward voyage. John Riley proved a 
good seaman, and he sailed with his 
first captain for years, and finally be- 
came a ship's master himself. Captain 
Hodgdon had a granddaughter, 
Molly Hanson, daughter of Ebenezer 
and Anna Hodgdon Hanson, and the 
young sailor lost his heart to this 

Perhaps a page of unwritten hi.story 
concerning Kbenezer Hanson would 
not be amiss right here. Ebenezer's 

father married, second, a wealthy 
woman from Lynn, Mass. There 
were two children born to them, and 
the boy was named Ebenezer. This 
woman had slaves, as was the custom 
of people of means in those days, and 
she brought them to Dover with her. 
Her husband, Thomas Hanson, died 
when her two children were young. 
Later, she married, against her better 
judgment at least, a farm hand, and 
she afterward declared that she was 
bewitched by his mother to consum- 
mate the foolish deed. This man 
grew tired of her cultivated ways, and 
was unkind in his treatment of her. 
She was sick in mind and body, and 
felt that she had not long to live, and 
the mother love for her two children 
was uppermost. At length she called 
her two remaining slaves to her, and 
told them to gather all her silver plate 
and pewter ware together, and bury 
it on the farm, and never tell any one 
where it was until her children were 
twenty- one years old. The slaves did 
her bidding, and soon after the un- 
happy wife and mother died. 

The years went on, and the slaves 
kept their secret, and when the time 
came for them to shuffle off the mortal 
coil the children were yet minors, and 
they died without revealing the hid- 
ing place of the valuables. These 
slaves were buried under an apple 
tree on the Hanson farm at Knox 
marsh, and " Aunt Ann " used to tell 
her grand nieces and nephews, how, 
when she was a child, and went up 
to the Hanson farm with others of the 
numerous grandchildren, the first 
place they would visit was the apple 
tree under which the slaves were 
buried, in search of " Nigs," as the 
the apples were always called. Tra- 
dition says that apiece of pewter ware 



was plowed out by Mr. Twombly, who 
owned the farm for many years. This 
may have been a piece of Ebenezer's 
mother's inherited possessions. 

Ebenezer was a soldier in the Rev- 
olution, and his descendants glory in 
his patriotism. Not so with "Aunt 
Ann." His family were Quakers, 
and the old lady was grieved and 
mortified when she thought of Eben- 
ezer's being a soldier, and would 
never discuss the matter with children 
of later generations. 

The Dover records tell us that John 
Riley and Mary Hanson were married 
October 13, 1777, by Rev. Dr. Bel- 
knap. On the 22d of Februarj^ 1787, 
the fifth child of Captain Riley was 
born, and was named Sarah Byles, 
for the worthy pastor's mother, and 
Miss Nabby gave the famous Eondon 
doll to her mother's namesake when 
she was five years old. The doll was 
kept in a bureau drawer, and was 
treated with great consideration by 
the Riley children. May 14, 1812, 
Sarah Byles Riley was married to 
James Bowdoin Varuey. 

For years Dr. Belknap had been 
living in Boston, whither he went 
when parochial affairs grew too un- 
pleasant for him to battle with in Do- 
ver. Miss Nabby had gone with her 
brother to his new home, but her 
heart turned back to Dover, and Mr. 
Scales, Dover's historian, tells us in 
his Historical Memoranda of Ancient 
Dover, that when she heard that 
Amos White was preparing to build 
a house she wrote immediately an 
earnest request that a room might be 
finished off for her. Her request was 
granted, and Miss Nabby came back 
to Dover and lived among her friends 
until her summons came in 1815. 
She had the southwest corner room 

on the first floor in the White house, 
and here she lived, cooking over her 
fireplace, eating from her little round 
table, sleeping on her low bed in the 
corner, and selling her goods to her 
numerous customers, in this one room. 
Her stock in trade was kept in a large 
trunk, and our historian tells us that 
it consisted of the best needles, the 
nicest silk, and the finest cutlery then 
to be found in this locality. 

Twice a year she went to Boston to 
buy goods. She rode in the stage- 
coach through Portsmouth, and the 
journey made quite a ripple among 
her associates. She frequently sold 
her silk by the needleful, and was 
very chary of her goods, not allowing 
her customers to handle her steel 
wares lest they tarnish them. The 
writer's great grandmother, Ruth 
Hall Went worth, walked from her 
home in the nearby town of Somers- 
worth to Dover one slippery day, and 
to insure an upright gait, she wore 
stockings over her shoes. It grew 
slopp3' before she reached Miss Nab- 
bj^'s store where she was wont to 
trade, and her overstockings left 
tracks on Miss Nabby's floor, for 
which she was sharply reprimanded. 

As Miss Nabby grew old her chief 
ailment, rheumatism, gained on her, 
and when her last sickness came, Dr. 
Jonathan Flagg attended her, but all 
his skill proved futile, especially after 
the house-dog, Pero (I wonder how 
Mr. Scales learned that), howled un- 
der her window. That sign never 
failed, and Miss Nabby went out, 
leaving a worldly estate of $1,368.16, 
and a memory that is cherished even 
to this generation. 

When the wedding of her mother's 
namesake took place, Miss Nabby 
gave the young bride a round mahog- 



any table, left from the Belknap house 
furnishings, and the one that Dr. Bel- 
knap wrote his most excellent ser- 
mons and the now famous history of 
New Hampshire on, leaving ink 
stains on its dark red surface, that 
bears testimony to-day of the lack of 
blotters in those times ; also a set of 
brass andirons were among the wed- 
ding presents from this venerable 

On the first visit of the stork to 
James Varney and his wife Sarah, on 
March 22, 1813, a daughter was 
brought. The family immediately 
decided to name the baby girl Abi- 
gail, for their lifelong friend. Miss 
Nabby. The compliment pleased the 
old lady very much, but she was a 
trifle disgruntled when Mrs. Varney 
decided to add the name Ann, for an 
aunt on her mother's side. Over- 
coming this slight displeasure the 
worthy woman gave her namesake a 
heavy silver spoon from her fast di- 
minishing store of household goods. 
To this child also came the ancient 
lyOndon doll. 

Abigail Ann was born in the early 
settled part of Dover, near the Wash- 
ington street bridge. She was pos- 
sessed of a good mind and acquired 
an education far ahead of her time. 
She taught school in the Pine Hill 
schoolhouse for several years, and 
later instructed the children of her 
own district in the Sherman school. 
June 14, 1848, she married 'Nahuni 
Wentworth of Rollinsford, a lineal 
descendant of Elder William Went- 
worth, the immigrant, and went to 
live on a part of the old farm. Two 
daughters were born to Mr. and Mrs. 
Wentworth. Augusta, who married 
Edward F. Thompson of Dover, and 
Annie, who married Cj^rus E. Hayes 

of the same city. Mrs. Wentworth 
told me that when she was a child 
she was allowed, on special occasions 
as a reward of merit, to gaze on the 
face of the Eondon doll as she lay in 
the bureau drawer where she had 
been a prisoner for years. Her 
younger sisters would climb up on a 
chair and peep in, but were strictly 
forbidden to handle. As the youthful 
owner grew older and was considered 
wise and careful enough not to injure 
the wonderful to3^ she was permitted 
to hold her a little while now and 
again. When Mrs. Wentworth was 
nine years old, she gave a party, and 
among the invited guests were Eliza- 
beth and Clementine Waldron, Caro- 
line Smith, Harriet Riley, Jane Wat- 
son, and Sarah Augusta Pendexter. 
At this time the Eondon doll was on 
exhibition and had a seat at the tea 
table, and was served b}' the guests 
with dainties, causing much la'ughter 
among the youthful company, nearly 
all of whom were cousins of the young 
hostess. Mrs. Wentworth has out 
lived all her company. 

When the }'Ounger members of the 
Varney famih- in their turn made the 
acquaintance of the ancient doll, she 
was not always treated with due re- 
spect. One day she was immersed 
three times to cure an alleged case of 
the rickets. At another time Mrs. 
Varney rescued the inoffensive doll 
from the guillotine. The youngest 
daughter, a mere tot, having heard 
the execution of Mary Queen of Scots 
discussed, concluded to dispose of the 
Eondon doll with a short ceremony. 
Her mother appeared on the scene 
just in time to see the little execu- 
tioner, with hatchet raised over the 
prostrate doll, and hear her say in 
her baby way, " Now mit, your head 



must go." One da}' Mrs. Varney 
heard the children racing up the 
stairs, full of frolic, and happening 
to see the old doll in the room she 
feared for her safety under the riot- 
ous conditions, and hastened to toss 
her behind the fire board, thinking 
to put her safely away later. Alas, 
she was forgotton, and a wayward 
spark from the kitchen fire fell on her 
hair and burned it off. By many 
hairbreadth escapes the doll eluded 
the vandalism of the j-ounger mem- 
bers of the family, and was at last 
put away minus her natural hair, and 
with her nose slightly battered. Mrs. 
Wentworth still held her rightful 
claim on the London doll, and at one 
time made her present underwear as 
nearly like her English clothes as 

The doll measures twenty-seven 
inches in length. She is made en- 
tirely of wood, evidently whittled with 
a jack knife. Her face and neck are 
smoothed off more carefully than her 
body and limbs. Her arms are jointed 
at the elbows, and fa.stened to her 
body by pieces of cloth, which are 
tacked on to her back. Her original 
clothing consisted of a dimity petti- 
coat and a white silk one, also a white 
linen chemise. These are gone, — 
worn out by the ravages of time and 
the carelessness of the j-outhful Var- 
neys. Her green silk dress is in ex- 
istence, having been taken off when 
the children had her to plaj' with. It 
was cut low in the neck, and worn 
with a white stomacher, open in front, 
elbow sleeves with a wide ruffle. The 
waist and sleeves were trimmed with 
a pink guimpe. She wore red mo- 
rocco shoes and white silk stockings. 

Her hair was dark brown, dressed in 
corkscrew curls in front and long 
curls behind. Her eyes are of glass, 
and retain in a remarkable way the 
brilliancy of nearly two hundred 
3'ears gone by. 

For fifty years the old time doll has 
lived a retired life. The children of 
the last two generations, especially 
Mrs. Wentworth's two grandsons, 
have cared little for the age, and less 
for the beauty of the Belknap relic. 
The doll appeared in public when the 
Marger}' Sullivan Chapter of the D. 
A. R. had an exhibit of ancient pos- 
sessions in Dover a few years ago, 
and about a year later she visited 
among the first families in the city, 
and was an honored guest at church 
functions where she received the at- 
tention due her. The subject of this 
sketch has always been known as the 
London doll — no otjier name — save 
when Mark and Ned Thompson 
spoke of her as "Old Hundred," in 
a jocund way. 

Mrs. Wentworth celebrated her 
ninetieth birthday March 22, 1903, 
and is as interesting in her conversa- 
tion as people of half her years. Her 
memory is a storehouse of old time 
events, and her statements are correct 
and to be relied on. She is very 
skilful with her needle still, and we 
treasure an elaborate needlebook of 
her recent make very highly. 

To her we are indebted for the story 
of the doll, and the items concerning 
her early ancestors, and we felt while 
talking with her, and calling to mind 
the many kindnesses tendered us in 
our childhood by the dear old lady, 
that the nobility of her forbears had 
centered in her most worthy self. 

By C. F. Blanchard. 

The scraggy pines stand grim and gaunt 
On the shores of Stumpy Pond, 

And stunt oaks grub a meagre life 
'Mid rocks and sand beyond. 

A scum rests on its bosom dark, 

Dead leaves and needles clog. 
And thus the glad light of the skies 

In mockery befog. 

Vile snakes crawl through the slimy ooze, 

And toads its shores infest ; 
No mill wheel wakes the laughing foam 

Upon its somber breast. 

The rude black stumps that rear their heads 

Within those waters drear 
Are roosts for ghouls that squat all night, 

And ogle and blink and leer. 

The passer-by whips up his horse, 

Nor lingers there to see. 
Oh, Stumpy Pond ! the bat, the owl. 

But never man, loves thee. 


By Jesse H. Biiffum, 

Myriad leaves are falling, falling, 

Would that the autumn might always stay ! 
Hear in the woods the bluejays calling ! 

Warbles the robin his parting lay ; 

Deep in the bush the bright witch-hazel. 
Come with a comforting smile to greet 

Sorrowing blush of waning season. 
With tint of yellow and odor sweet. 


Faintly the blush of the mountain maid 

Answers the wooing of stream and lake ; 
Faintly the call of the whippoorwill 

Stirs 'mid the balsam and nodding brake. 

Dead in the fields the bracken lying ; 

Filled are the woods with an odor sweet, 
The cinnamon fern's tall fronds are dying, 

The brown leaves rustle beneath your feet. 

Leafy the wood-road where we 're treading. 

Naked the branches over our head ; 
Chill is the air ; the north winds blowing, 

Gone are the flowers — and nature, dead. 

Sadly our lives take the autumn hue : 

We leave behind us the summer sun : 
The chill of death seems to pierce us through : 

Symbol of life that is but begun. 

By George Warren Parker. 

Oh ! would I were back in the heyday of youth, 
When life was so happy, so careless and free ; 

The cup of joy brimming and Pleasure e'er smiling, 
And naught but the beauty in nature to see. 

" Cease now this cavil and querulous moaning ; 
Awake in young manhood a purpose in life ; 
Mount stepping-stones golden, around thee thick lying, 
And, rising from doubt, go forth to the strife ! " 

To snatch the Promethean fire of heaven. 

To wake latent powers and ne'er see increase, 

To view beyond reach the prize of one's calling, 
Is worse than to linger in Lotus-land ease. 

" Leave self in the background, the world place before thee, 
And do what thou canst where'er there is need ! 
If thou hast true worth, the world will demand it. 
And seeing its fruitage will be thy rich meed." 

■wffil i«v/ A ituutHHu •iff**' ^ 


Col. Thomas A. Parsons, a native of Gilmanton, eighty-one years of age, son of 
the late Thomas and Betsey (Simpson) Parsons, died in Derry, October 7. 

He was educated in Gilmanton and Lowell, Mass., and studied law with Judge 
Crosby in the latter city. He settled in practice in Lawrence, being the second 
lawyer to settle in that place, where he became eminent in his profession and 
prominent in public life, serving several terms in the Massachusetts legislature 
and in the constitutional convention of the state. He was a delegate to the 
national Republican convention in Chicago which nominated Lincoln for the 

He was a field officer in the Massachusetts militia previous to the War of the 
Rebellion, in which he served. 

For some time past he had lived in Derry, making his home with a sister, Mrs. 
Abbie A. Wilcox. 


Dr. Ossian W. Goss, a leading, physician of Belknap county, died at his home 
in Lakeport, October 8. 

Dr. Goss was born in Lakeport, March 21, 1856, the son of Dr. Oliver and 
Elizabeth Honor (Flanders) Goss. He attended the common and select schools 
until 1873, was a student for one year in the New Hampton institution, and was 
graduated from the New Hampshire Conference seminary and Female college at 
Tilton, at the close of a two years' classical course, in 1876. 

Having completed his preparatory education, he entered Bates college, Lewis- 
ton, Me., in 1876. In 1880 he matriculated in the medical school of Harvard 
university, and was graduated with the degree of M. D. in June, 1882. In 1886 
he entered the Post-Graduate Medical school of New York for special courses in 
medicine and surgery, also taking up at various times special studies at Harvard 
post-graduate and Boston polyclinic. 

Dr. Goss was a member of the New Hampshire Medical society, the Winnipe- 
saukee Academy of Medicine, and the American Medical association. He had 
been in the practice of medicine and surgery since June, 1882, and had a large 
and lucrative practice. 

He was prominent in secret and fraternal orders, being a member of the Odd 
Fellows, the Masons, Pilgrim commandery, K. T., the Knights of Pythias, the 


Red Men, the Elks, the Royal Arcanum, the Pilgrim Fathers, the New England 
Order of Protection, the Masonic Relief association, and others. 

Dr. Goss was married in 1882 to Mary P. Weeks of Sanbornton. Their only 
child died in infancy. Mrs. Goss died October 6, 1901. 


Rev. Edward A. Rand rector of the Episcopal Church of the Good Shepherd, 
Watertown, Mass., died recently at his home in Watertown, after an illness of 
several days. He leaves a widow, three daughters, and a son. A brother, Rev. 
William A. Rand, is pastor of the Congregational church at South Seabrook. 

He was the son of Edward and Caroline (Paul) Rand, and was born in Ports- 
mouth, April 5, 1837. After graduating from Bowdoin college in 1857, he studied 
at the Union Theological seminary, New York, and at the Bangor Theological 
school, where he graduated in 1863. He was ordained to the Congregational 
ministry, and settled in Amesbury in 1865, but in 1867 he was called to South 
Boston to the E street Congregational church, where he remained until 1876. He 
then preached a while at Franklin, Mass. In 1880 he took orders in the Episco- 
pal Church, and soon moved to Watertown, with the idea of starting an Episcopal 

Mr. Rand won a name as a writer, and has published some well known books. 

Seventeen years ago he built the Church of the Good Shepherd, of which he 
Jiad been the rector ever since. 


Joseph Warren Towle, born in Epping, August 15, 1832, died in Exeter, Sep- 
tember 25, 1903. 

He was the youngest of four children of Gen. Joseph and Nancy (Randlett ) 
Towle. His father served as a captain in the War of 1812, was major-general in 
the old militia, five terms sheriff of Rockingham county, and otherwise prominent. 
He fitted for college at Phillips Exeter academy and graduated from Harvard in 
185 1, and entered upon the study of law in the office of Seth J. Thomas of Bos- 
ton, also attending Harvard Law school, from which he graduated in 1853, when 
he was admitted to the Suffolk bar. 

In September, 1853, Mr. Towle went to Portsmouth and entered the law office 
of Hon. Ichabod Bartlett, who died less than two months afterward, whereupon 
Mr. Towle opened in the seaside city an oftice of his own. He practised in Ports- 
mouth until i860, when the late ex Gov. Charles H. Bell persuaded him to go to 
Exeter. There he ever after resided, and at his death was almost the senior of 
active members of the Rockingham bar. Mr. Towle was a public-spirited citizen, 
and took a prominent part in promotion of the original Exeter and Hampton Street 
railway and the Rockingham Electric company. Through his instrumentality 
were secured a majority of the portraits which adorn the Exeter court house. 

In politics he was a stalwart Democrat. For about twenty-five years he served on 
the state committee, and since 1854 had seldom failed to attend a state convention. 


While a resident of Portsmouth he was made a Mason, and in 1854 sat in the 
grand lodge. His religious connections were with the Unitarian church. In 
1858 he was married to Miss Abbie H. Lord of Cambridge, Mass, who died eight 
years ago. Of six children there survive a son, J. Herbert of Marlboro, Mass., 
and a daughter, Mrs. Albert J. Weeks. Mr. Towle outlived his two brothers, and 
leaves as the last of his family a sister, Miss Parna Towle, who presided over his 


Hon. Charles Colby Kenrick, a native and prominent resident of Franklin, died 
at his home in that city, October 6. 

He was a son of Stephen and Clarissa (Blanchard) Kenrick, born on the old 
homestead, where he died April 8, 1844. He was educated at the Franklin and 
New London academies. He early engaged in the livery business, carrying on 
other enterprises in connection and meeting with great financial success, and 
becoming the largest real estate owner in Franklin. 

Nearly ten years ago he retired from active business, and since then has applied 
himself to the work of improving and enlarging his possessions of real estate, with 
such success that he had amassed a fortune estimated at half a million. Mr. 
Kenrick always was an admirer of fine horses, and at almost any time in thirty 
years he had half a hundred high bred horses in his stables. 

Mr. Kenrick was a large holder of Boston & Maine railroad stock, and was one 
of the directors of the Manchester «Sc Portsmouth road. He was a director of the 
Franklin National and Franklin Savings banks, a trustee of the Franklin ceme- 
tery, and had interest in various other enterprises. He had always evinced an 
interest in the civic welfare of his native town and had rendered good service as 
a selectman before the city government was established, and at the time of his 
death was a member of the city council from Ward i. In 1895 he was a member 
of the legislature, serving on the railroad committee, and in i8g6 was elected 
senator from the sixth district. Politically he was a Republican and prominent 
in the party councils. He was a member of Winnipiseogee lodge, A. O. U. W., 
and St. Andrew's lodge. Knights of Pythias. He was for years a member of the 
Congregational church, and contributed quite liberally to the recent fund for 

In 1894 he married Ardella R. Morgan, who survives him. 


The Granite Monthly. 

Vol. XXXV. 

DECEMBER, 1903. 

No. (>.. 


By yohii Allien. 

N these very recent years 
there came before the 
people of New Hamp- 
shire a man, and he had 
an idea. As governor of 
the state, and better stiU, the personi- 
fication of good citizenship, he was 
concerned for the moraL sociaL and 
material welfare of his fellow-citizens 
and alert for ways and means for the 
strengthening and betterment of 
every nook and corner in the state. 
As governor this was his single pur- 
pose and it is natural law that thought 
along a single line is productive of 
ideas and methods to an end. But 
ideas are prolific. They come with 
the dawn of every day. They ger- 
minate in every season and under all 
conditions, but like leaves beneath 
an October sky they fall, for the most 
part, aimlessly away, as behind them 
there has been nothing more than 
talk. An idea is a thought, a con- 
ception, and to count at all it must 
be carried into action that there may 
evolve therefrom a fact, a real condi- 
tion. This is what Frank West 
Rollins, as the governor of New 
Hampshire, did wdth his idea. 

As the chief executive of the state 
he was a splendid example of the 
man more zealous for the interests of 

the state than for the advancement 
of his own personal welfare. That 
perfunctoriness that is so character- 
istic of the public official of low and 
high degree was no part of him, in 
his going and coming as the governor 
of New Hampshire. Knowing as he 
did the real needs of the people and 
the opportunities of the state, the 
thought came to him that great good 
would result from an annual reunion 
of the people of all the towns and 
cities who had taken up their residence 
beyond their borders. Thus was 
conceived in the mind of Governor 
Rollins the idea of an Old Home 
Week. He wasted no valuable time 
in an endeavor to mold public senti- 
ment favorable to his new idea by 
having this and that association pass 
resolutions endorsing the idea, but 
believing in it himself he threw his 
utmost energy into the work of evolv- 
ing his idea into an actual fact. He 
was indeed a man behind an idea 
carried into action. He was not con- 
tent when the people told him the 
idea was a good one and ought to be 
adopted. He saw to it that it was 
adopted, and that its adoption was 
with the least possible delay. 

Governor Rollins might have talked 
until this day of his idea and never 



for once have met with a disapproval, 
yet all his talk and that of the people 
would have availed nothing. But, 
fortunately for all, he got down to 
work and his idea, his thought, his 
conception was made a happy reality 
and has already accomplished an 
amount of good that is beyond 
measure. His administration as gov- 
ernor of New Hampshire was a suc- 
cess because he not only said things 
but did things. How great a success 
Old Home Week has become is known 
by all, for the idea is now a fact in 
various states and is spreading itself 
over all the older states of the Union, 
and the name of Governor Rollins 
and that of his original idea are in a 
sense synonymous. The contempla- 
tion of one is the contemplation of 
the other. It was the carrying of 
his idea into action that has made 
the name of the former governor 
known for all time in the history of 
his country. 

But not only does an idea grow, 
but it is often productive of other 
ideas of allied form and intention. 
This is what has already come to pass 
in the further career of former Gov- 
ernor Rollins. In business life he is 
of the banking house of E. H. 
Rollins & Sons, Boston, though re- 
taining his legal residence in the city 
of Concord, New Hampshire. Now 
for many years Boston and its neigh- 
boring cities and towns has been the 
magnet that has drawn from their 
New Hampshire homes many of her 
sons and daughters, and they were 
from among her best young blood. 
The number of these living within a 
radius of ten miles from the Massa- 
chusetts state house is placed at 
twenty-five thousand and in practi- 
cally every large town and city of the 

Bay state may be found a strong con- 
tingent of men and women native of 
New Hampshire. The thought came 
to Governor Rollins that the union of 
these sons and daughters of the 
Granite state resident in Massachu- 
setts in a formal organization would 
be a source of benefit to the individual 
members and to their native state. 
He said, "Let us have in Boston 
an organization of present and for- 
mer residents of New Hampshire." 
His idea was presumably the out- 
come of that of the Old Home Week. 
At any rate it was an idea born in the 
brain of the former governor, and as 
he did with his Old Home Week 
thought so he did with this new idea 
of an association of New Hampshire 
people in Boston, — he carried it into 
effect, into action, and there was 
evolved " The New Hampshire Ex- 
change Club," which to-day is a 
potent fact, numbering some eight 
hundred members and working with- 
out ceasing for the good of the state 
and the advancement of all its in- 

The wisdom and good judgment 
that has characterized the direction of 
the club from its inception to the 
present are well illustrated b)^ that 
article of the constitution which fixes 
the price of admission to membership 
in the club at the extremely reason- 
able sum of ten dollars and annual 
dues also at ten dollars. One must 
search far to find a social club of like 
advantages, worth, and general tone 
and character, that offers so much for 
like sums. But they are in sympathy 
with the spirit and aim of the organ- 
ization, the bringing together in social 
communion and work of the sons 
and daughters of the state. It is in 
no sense an exclusive club, except in 



Hon. Frank W. Rollins. 

its territorial or statehood require- 
ments, and the latchstring is out to 
that son and daughter of New Hamp- 
shire of limited financial means just 
as sincerely as it is to the person of 
wealth and exceptional social posi- 

tion. The club seeks as its members 
all natives of the state and such as 
are identified with its life who pretend 
to be in their breeding and conduct 
men and women. 

As a result of the formal organiza 



tion of the club it was but natural 
that he who first promulgated the 
idea of the club, the man behind an 
idea in action, should be chosen its 
president — former Governor Rollins. 
In his individuality, he is a power in 
himself. The people of New Hamp- 
shire have long since recognized in 
him a leader of men and he quickens 

Portsmouth and graduate of Dart- 
mouth, class of '97, when not quite 
twenty years of age. He is a son of 
John Pender, former mayor of Ports- 
mouth, once sheriff of Rockingham 
county and grand master of the grand 
lodge of New Hampshire, A. F. & 
A. M. The fact that Secretary 
Pender completed the course at Dart- 

Horace G Pender. 

and strengthens all with which he 
comes in contact. It is hardly neces- 
sary to write that President Rollins 
gives to the club a constant attention 
and that where he is there is har- 
mony, good fellowship, and kindly 

For its secretary the club is fortu- 
nate in the possession of Horace Gib- 
son Pender, a most creditable son of 

mouth before completing his teens 
tells in itself a significant story of in- 
tellectual talent, habit of application, 
and concentration of thought. He 
was born in Portsmouth, September 
10, 1877, and is therefore just in his 
twenty-seventh year. In Dartmouth 
he was an editor of college publica- 
tions, member of musical clubs, of the 
Beta Theta Pi fraternity and Sphinx 



senior societj'. After graduation at 
Dartmouth he entered the Harvard 
law school, from which he graduated 
in 1900. Upon his admission to the 
bar he practised in the office of 
Nathan Matthews, Jr., a former 
mayor of Boston, staying there for 
six months. For one year he was in 
the office of former Congressman 
George Fred Williams, at the conclu- 
sion of which time he set up practice 
by himself. At present he is the 
senior member of the successful law 
firm of Pender & Holt, having offices 
in the Rogers building, 209 Wash- 
ington street, Boston. In addition 
to his position as secretary of the New 
Hampshire Exchange club he is sec- 
retary of the Dartmouth club of 
Boston and of the Sphinx Alumni 
association and is prominently identi- 
fied with the First Corps of Cadets, a 
leading Massachusetts military organ- 

The New Hampshire Exchange 
club has for its primary end the fos- 
tering of every good interest of the 
state and its people by the creation 
and location of an agency in Boston, 
through which and by which all iden- 
tified with the state may the better be 
enabled to keep in touch with its 
affairs and to keep alive those ties 
that bind one to his native hearth and 
childhood home. 

Essentially, it is a fraternal organ- 
ization of those sons and daughters 
of New Hampshire visiting for the 
day or permanently residing in the 
city of Boston and its environs. In 
its administration and organization it 
offers to its members every advantage 
that is a part of the most perfectly 
organized social club. Its formation 
was not only speedily accomplished, 
but the size of its membership rolls 

and the extent and great desirable- 
ness of the club home, are matters 
that prompt an extreme admiration, 
and especially so when is considered 
the work required to bring about these 

The club in itself is as distinct and 
novel as was the original Old Home 
Week idea. It was not the following 
out of a plan elsewhere in operation. 
It was a new idea, the forerunner un- 
doubtedly of many another for which 
it will serve as the pattern just as 
New Hampshire's Old Home Week 
led off and pointed the way for 

When Governor Rollins first pro- 
posed his plan for the New Hamp- 
shire Exchange club he found many 
a willing helper both among the resi- 
dents of the state and those native 
born but with a resident citizenship 
in Massachusetts. When once the 
work of organization was set in 
motion it was not allowed to drag or 
hang fire. There was talk but there 
was action. The enrolment of mem- 
bers was followed by the most careful 
preparation of a constitution and by- 
laws and in their completed form they 
are models of their kind ; discreetly 
worded, clear as to their meaning, and 
succinct in expression. Article first 
gives the formal name of the associa- 
tion ; article second recites that its 
object is to gather into a social organ- 
ization the sons and daughters of 
New Hampshire, for the purpose of 
friendly intercourse and the promot- 
ing of the general interests of the 
state ; article three provides that the 
ofiicers of the club shall consist of a 
president, three or more vice-presi- 
dents, a secretary, who shall be the 
clerk of the club, a treasurer, and 
twelve directors, who with the presi- 



dent, secretary, and treasurer consti- 
tute an executive committee. These 
officers are elected annually by ballot 
at the annual meeting. The especial 
duties of the executive committee are 
set forth in the following sections of 
article three : 

Sect. 2. The executive committee shall have 
the management and control of the club and its 
property, subject to the by-laws. The execu- 
tive committee, or a sub-committee thereof, 
shall authorize all such contracts, purchases and 
payments as they shall deem proper, at such 
times and in such amounts as the finances of 
the club shall warrant. 

Sect. 3. The executive committee shall ap- 
point a house committee, consisting of the sec- 
retary and four other members of the executive 

Sect. 4. If the office of president, vice-presi- 
dent, secretary or treasurer shall become vacant, 
the executive committee shall call a special 
meeting of the club to fill the vacancy. All 
committees to fill their own vacancies. 

Sect. 5. Four members shall constitute a 
quorum of the executive committee, and three 
members shall constitute a quorum of the house 
committee, for the transaction of all business. 

Sect. 6. The executive committee shall meet 
each month, except the months of July and 
August, and special meetings may be called by 
the secretary, at the request of the president or 
three members of the executive committee, 
upon reasonable notice thereof to the other 

Sect. 7. The executive committee at its meet- 
ing in December in each year shall appoint a 
nominating committee of ten members, at least 
six of whom shall not be members of the execu- 
tive committee, who shall select a name for a 
candidate for each office to be filled at the en- 
suing annual meeting, send to the secretary the 
names selected and post the same in some con- 
spicuous place in the club-house, at least ten 
days before the annual meeting. 

Sect. 8. it shall be the duty of the house 
committee to manage the club-house, to regu- 
late the prices, to order purchases, to audit bills, 
to receive and answer complaints, and to ap- 
point and dismiss all employees, and to make 
such house rules as are needed. 

Sect. q. The executive committee shall ap- 
point other committees at such times as the 
needs of the club shall require. 

Article eight refers to membership 
in the club as follows : 


Section i. Membership. The membership 
of this club shall consist of natives and resi- 
dents of New Hampshire, and such persons as 
are, in the judgment of the executive commit- 
tee, sufficiently identified with the interests of 
the state. 

Sect. 2. Members may obtain from the sec- 
retary cards of admission for the female mem- 
bers of their immediate families, which shall 
not be transferable. 

Sect. 3. The wives of members may become 
full members of the club by paying the admis- 
sion fee and annual dues. 

Sect. 4. The governor of the state, the presi- 
dent of Dartmouth college, and the president 
of the New Hampshire Agricultural College and 
School of Mechanic Arts shall be honorary 
members of the club, while holding office, with- 
out the payment of admission fees or annual 

Sect. 5. Proposals for membership shall be 
made to the secretary of the club in writing, 
endorsed by two members of the club, who 
must be personally acquainted with the candi- 
date, and who shall state the name, residence, 
and place of business of the one proposed, and 
the date of the proposal. The secretary shall 
post the names proposed in th^ club-house, at 
least two weeks before they are voted upon. 
The executive committee shall hold meetings 
for the consideration of proposals for member- 
ship at least once each month, except July and 

Sect. 6. Every person elected to membership 
in the club must, within thirty days after re- 
ceipt of notice of election, pay to the treasurer 
the annu.U assessment, or half the annual as- 
sessment if elected after July i, and the admis- 
sion fee. Until such payment shall have been 
made, the person elected shall not be entitled 
to the privileges of the club, and if payment 
shall not have been made before the expiration 
of the thirty days next succeeding the notice 
thereof, his or her election shall be thereby 
rendered void and of no effect. 

Sect. 7. Any member may withdraw from 
the club after the payment of all dues, by giv- 
ing written notice of his resignation to the sec- 
retary ; but, unless such resignation shall be 
received before the first day of January of any 
year, the member so resigning shall be liable 
for the dues of that year. 

Sect. 8. On the resignation or death of a 
member, or any forfeiture of membership under 
the by-laws, all his or her right and interest in 
the property of the club shall cease. 

Sect. 9. The executive committee shall have 
full power to expel or suspend any members 
whose conduct shall be pronounced, by a two- 
thirds vote of the committee present at a legal 



meeting thereof and called to consider the 
same, to be detrimental to the interests, welfare 
or character of the club, but no action shall be 
taken unless a quorum of the committee shall 
be actuallj' present. 

Article nine is one calculated to fill 
the heart of the traveler with joy and 
thanksgiving, for it says : 

No member, visitor or guest shall give, under 
an J- pretence whatsoever, money or any gratuity 
to any person in the employ of the club. 

The annual meeting of the club is 
required by article seven to be held 
on the second Wednesda)^ of each 

The membership committee is made 
up of men who are not only repre- 
sentative sons of the state but are 
earnest and ever alert to advance its 
welfare both when at home and 
abroad. The personnel of the com- 
mittee follows : 

Montgomery Rollins, Chestnut Hill, Mass., 
Chairman ; True I,. Norris, Portsmouth : Sum- 
ner Wallace, Rochester; John K. I,ord, Han- 
over; Wm. E. Spalding, Nashua; Joseph T. 
Meader, Brookline, Mass. ; Edwin D. Mead, 
Boston, Mass. ; Chas. Francis Sawyer, Dover ; 
Forrest S. Smith, Durham, Mass. ; Edwin De- 
Merritt, Boston, Mass.; Wilder D. Quint, Cam- 
bridge, Mass. ; Geo. F. Bean, Woburn, Mass. : 
Nathaniel L. Foster, Brookline, Mass. ; Geo. 
M. Clough, Somerville, Mass. ; Weld A. Rol- 
lins, Boston, Mass. ; Herbert A. Fuller, Am- 
herst ; George H. Sargent, Dorchester, Mass. ; 
Christopher H. Wells ; Charles L. Ayling, 
Chestnut Hill, Mass. 

The present membership of the 
club is a thoroughly representative 
one and such as gives unbounded as- 
surance of continued growth, influ- 
ence, and a power for the good of the 
state throughout its length and 
breadth. The sons and daughters of 
the state resident in Boston are espe- 
cially strong in its membership, and 
they constitute a list of names that 
any organization would be justified in 

pointing to with pride and exultation. 
No less than one hundred and thirty- 
one cities and towns have alreadj' 
contributed to the membership of the 

From the date of its formal incep- 
tion the club has been fortunate in its 
every progressive step, which, per- 
haps, was to have been expected from 
the make-up of the men behind it. 
More especially is its successful career 
to be noted in its association home, 
in the club-house proper. The house 
is alike admirable for its situation and 
in construction. Its location is on 
Walnut street, the second thorough- 
fare from the Massachusetts state 
house and just around the corner 
from Beacon street. The club-house 
and the Beacon street residence on 
the site of the John Hancock home 
practically come together at a right 
angle, and in the near vicinity are the 
homes of some of Boston's most ex- 
clusive clubs. It would indeed be 
hard to realize how the New Hamp- 
shire Exchange club could have 
bettered itself in a search for a loca- 
tion for its association home. While 
in the heart of a principal residential 
section of Boston it is yet convenient 
to the best shopping centres and the 
financial marts. The club-house was 
formerly the home of the late Henry 
Norwell of the dry goods house of 
Shepard & Norwell Co., and was 
opened by the club as its permanent 
home on Monday morning, September 
21, 1903. The club-house is a four- 
story structure with basement partly 
above grotmd. Above the spacious 
and inviting entrance there hangs 
each secular day of the year the state 
flag of New Hampshire, signifying in 
this instance that within is a common 
meeting-place for the sons and daugh- 




The Ladies' Parlor. 

ters of the old Granite state visitirig or 
resident in Boston. Passing the en- 
trance door one is ushered into a 
broad staircase hall, and the impres- 
sion made by the view is one that 
pleases and endures. It is stately 
yet cheerful and hospitable, condi- 
tions that remain and heighten as the 
inspection of the home progresses. 

Beneath the stairway is the super- 
intendent's office and bureau of in- 
formation. Neatness, good taste, and 
a discreet selection are at once appar- 
ent and a cheerful, homelike atmos- 
phere pervades the whole interior. 
For days and weeks prior to the 
opening of the house decorators were 
kept busy preparing the building for 
its new purpose. 

In the well-lighted basement is the 
kitchen and its allied apartments all 
appointed wdth every requisite and 

device for cooking and serving. To 
the right of the main entrance hall is 
the women's parlor, a room spacious 
in its dimensions, beautiful in its dec- 
orations, and admirable in its appoint- 
ments. The decorations are in white 
and green, and much of the furniture 
is of teak wood with harmonious up- 
holsterings. Solidity, worth, and 
strength of character are all three 
characteristics of the New Hamp- 
shire Exchange club, just as are the 
everlasting hills of the state and as 
has been in all the generations its 
manhood and womanhood. So, like- 
wise, are these three traits distinguish- 
able in the appointments of the club- 
house. The armchair shown in the 
illustration of the women's parlor is 
a good lift for two men and all else in 
the room is in keeping. The statu-^ 
ary is all in the finest Carrara mar- 



ble and are hardly to be excelled in 
artistic merit. 

From the women's parlor entrance 
is had to the women's dining-room, 
an exceedingly pleasant apartment. 
On the second floor is a spacious and 
completely furnished social room, a 
smoking room, and a "stranger's" 
room. On the third floor is the 
library, one of the best appointed and 
largest in the building. Opening 
from this is Secretary Pender's den, 
and near by is the dining-room for 
men. The fourth floor is devoted to the 
amusement roonis supplied with bil- 
liard tables, and like requisites for a 
social hour. 

A library of New Hampshire liter- 
ature in all its splendid and diverse 
nature ; a museum of New Hamp- 
shire relics and curiosities, and a 
bureau of general information con- 

cerning the state and its "every inter- 
est, are all in process of formation 
and development. It is intended that 
the prospective summer visitor or per- 
manent resident shall be enabled to 
find at the club-house any and all in- 
formation desired. Were this alone 
the purpose of the club it would 
merit the unbounded and enthusiastic 
support of every son and daughter of 
the state. 

The number of people of New 
Hampshire birth who live in Boston 
and its vicinity towns and cities is not 
only surprisingly large, but the im- 
portance of the part they plaj' in the 
daily life of Boston and Massachu- 
setts is great and far reaching to an 
extent that excites the investigator 
with wonder and amazement. The 
self-reliant, energetic, and resourceful 
sons and daughters of the state are 

The Reading-Roorr. 



found in every line of human life as 
it is found in New England's metrop- 
olis and the old Bay state. 

For its treasurer the club selected 
Edward P. Comins, a resident of Ash- 
mont, in the metropolitan district. 
In business life Mr. Comins is a pub- 
lic accountant with ofhce in the new 
India building on State street, Boston. 
He is one admirably equipped by 
nature and training for his chosen 
position in the New Hampshire Ex- 
change club. 

The vice-presidents of the club are 
former governor of New Hamp- 
shire, Hiram A. Tuttle, Pittsfield ; 
Alfred F. Howard, Portsmouth ; Win- 
ston Churchill, the novelist, Cor- 
nish ; William F. Thayer, Concord ; 
Alvah W. Sulloway, Franklin ; 
George A. Marden, Lowell, Mass., 
one of the most distinguished citizens 
of his adopted state ; Col. William 
A. Gile, Worcester, Mass. ; Oliver E. 
Branch, a leader of the New Hamp- 
shire bar, with residence in Manches- 
ter ; Copley Amory, Walpole, N. H. ; 
Miss Kate Sanborn, the novelist and 
miscellaneous writer, Metcalf, Mass. ; 
Miss Annie SanfordHead, Brookline, 
Mass. ; and Mrs. Frank Sherwin 
Streeter, Concord. 

The board of directors includes 
Jeremiah Smith, Jr., Cambridge, 
Mass., grandson of one of New 
Hampshire's most distinguished lead- 
ers of its legal profession, and son of 
Professor Smith of Harvard Univer- 
sity ; George A. Fern aid, Winches- 
ter, a leading Boston banker on 
Water street; Henry N. Sweet, a 
native of Lancaster, and a Boston 
broker on State street ; Robert R. 
Kimball of Brown, Durrell & Co., 
Boston ; Daniel Blaisdell Ruggles, a 
member of the Suffolk county bar, 

with ofhce in the Tremont building ; 
Major Frank B. Stevens, Boston, and 
a member of the staff of Gov. John 
L. Bates; Joseph W. Lund, an ex- 
ceptionally successful Boston lawyer, 
with offices in the India building ; 
Eliphalet F. Philbrick, who so re- 
cently as 1897 was clerk of the lower 
branch of the New Hampshire legis- 
lature, but now a Boston lawyer at 89 
State street ; Frank W. Stearns, of the 
dry goods house of R. H. Stearns & 
Co., Tremont street and Temple 
place, who is one of the best-known 
and deservedly popular of Boston's 
younger citizens; James O. Lyford, 
Concord, naval officer at the port of 
Boston ; Walter H. Seavey, one of 
Dover's most favorably known 
younger men, now with the banking 
house of E. H. Rollins «& Son, Bos- 
ton ; and Montgomery Rollins, whose 
Massachusetts residence is at Chest- 
nut Hill, but who still retains his 
New Hampshire home, Tidewater 
Farm, Dover, near the ancestral estate 
at Rollinsford. 

The house committee is made up of 
Henry N. Sweet, chairman ; Jere- 
miah Smith, Jr., Joseph W. Lund, 
and Walter H. Seavey. 

Surprising as is the greatness of 
the number of men and women of 
New Hampshire birth in and about 
Boston, it is equally surprising when 
is noted the influence they exert and 
the importance of the part the)'' play 
in all the affairs of New England's 
metropolis and the old Bay state. In 
pulpit and press, in private and pub- 
lic educational work, in the indus- 
trial, commercial, and financial fields, 
in hotel and railroad life, in politics 
and in all the professions there you 
will find the sons of New Hampshire 
and that, too, in the front rank. 


30 r 

President Rollins of the club is one 
of Boston's largest and best known 
bankers and were he in all these 
3'ears a citizen of Massachusetts he 
would without question have attained 
equal prominence in social, business, 
and political life in that state that he 
has as a native and lifelong resident 
of New Hampshire. His conspicuous 

serve for the advancement of its wel- 

Among the men who early joined 
with Governor Rollins in the work of 
organizing the New Hampshire Ex- 
change club was George M. Clough, 
whose birthplace was Warner and 
whose present home is the city of 
Somerville, where live some thirteen 


George M. Clough. 

individuality and his singularly force- 
ful and winning personality are guar- 
antees of this, for say what one may, 
people admire and will follow a 
man who is a leader from other than 
selfish motives. From love of one's 
birthplace springs the motive to labor 
with zeal and singleness of purpose 
for the good of that spot and all that 
concerns it or that can be made to 

hundred other men and women of 
New Hampshire birth. All those 
characteristics that have for so long 
typified the son of New Hampshire 
are dominant or at least manifest in 
Mr. Clough's personality. He is 
versatile and able to undertake the 
duty of the hour. It is not meant 
by this that he is first in one business 
and then in another, for he is not, as 



for sixteen consecutive years he has 
been an agent for the Penn Mutual 
Life Insurance company, with office 
on Devonshire street, Boston, and as 
such has achieved a signal success, 
but he is one of those whom his fel- 
low-men can call upon in an emergen- 
cy. Doubtless he could saw and split 
to perfection the wood of a needy 
neighbor, shingle his barn or plough 
his field, and he would do all this 
fi'om the promptings of the heart 
within him. He was born May 28, 
1863, the son of John and Julia (Ed- 
munds) Clough. It was in the com- 
mon schools of Warner and in the 
Simond's Free High school that he 
obtained an education that thus far 
in life he has put to excellent use. 
Born upon a farm, and having a 
father who not only knew how to suc- 
cessfully conduct a farm but carpen- 
try as well, the son also became pro- 
ficient in the use of tools and thus 
learned to utilize head and hand. 
From the school as a student he re- 
entered educational life as a teacher, 
following the profession for six years, 
and for two years was in charge 
of the schools in the town of Til- 

He early became active in the New 
Hampshire Patrons of Husbandry, 
and at the present time is president of 
the Somerville societ}' of the Sons and 
Daughters of New Hampshire. For 
two years before engaging in the life 
insurance business he followed land 
surveying. He is the present presi- 
dent of the Simond's Free High school 
association of Warner. In his re- 
ligious affiliations he is a member of 
the Church of Christ, Scientist, and 
prominent in the mother church of 
Boston, and in which church, with 
its very large membership, he is 

one of the comparatively few ap- 
pointed as teachers. 

There is borne upon the member- 
ship rolls of the New Hampshire 
Exchange club the name of Richard 
Hall Stearns, whom much of New 
England knows as the founder and 
senior member of the dry goods house 
of R. H. Stearns & Co., occupying 
entire the great building upon the 
corner of Tremont street and Temple 

Richard H. Stearns. 

place in the city of Boston. That the 
name of this house is representative 
of New England commercial integrity 
in its most perfect type is a fact that 
has become established in every New 
England hamlet and their reputation 
for uprightness in all its transactions 
is never jeopardized by the house in 
the slightest degree. It is the great- 
est among many great assets. 

While New Hampshire in Massa- 
chusetts has none more faithful and 
watchful for her welfare it is yet the 
truth that Mr. Stearns is not by birth 



of the Granite state, for he was born in 
Ashburnham, a town of Worcester 
county, Massachusetts, which lies 
upon the New Hampshire line. But 
when scarcel}'^ three weeks old the 
family removed across the line into 
New Ipswich, where he lived until he 
reached his majority. Thus he is a 
son of New Hampshire at least bj^ 
rearing, and right worthily has he 
represented her in his long and indus- 
trious career. 

His boyhood years were passed in 
the village schools and at work on 
the farm. At twenty-one he turned 
his face toward Boston and entered 
upon that mercantile life he continues 
to this day. Amid all the competi- 
tion by which he was surrounded and 
in the face of obstacles that would 
seem at this day to have been insur- 
mountable he triumphed and achieved 
a success as brilliant as that of any 
among the hundreds of Boston mer- 
chants. The boy on the New Hamp- 
shire farm has been transformed into 
the man of vast commercial affairs and 
the work of transformation was all 
performed by himself, yet his start 
was the daily inculcations in char- 
acter building received in his bo}'- 
hood farm life. 

His first work in Boston was as a 
clerk in the notion store of C. C. 
Burr on Washington street, near 
Franklin. His career as a clerk con- 
tinued for three and a half years, 
when he founded the existing firm of 
R. H. Stearns & Company. This 
was in 1847, nearly sixty years since, 
and it is probably to-day the oldest 
dry goods house in Boston. Its age, the 
solidity of its growth, and the compre- 
hensiveness of its character find a 
similitude in a New England oak, it 
has grown and grown to endure. 

G. M.— 22 

The first business home of the firm 
was on Washington street near West. 
Later it secured a long lease of the 
Dr. Bigelow house on Summer street, 
which it rebuilt and occupied until 
1872. The present Tremont street 
location of the firm, vast as it is, af- 
fords not a foot of unoccupied space, 
but from street to roof all is required 
by the never-ceasing, ever-growing 
requirement of its business. 

Could the facts be readily ascer- 
tained it would be of extreme interest 
to learn for a certainty, if there be in 
all the country another community of 
its size that has contributed, in past 
and present, a larger or more brilliant 
list of names of men who have 
achieved a more than local success 
and fame in literally every field of 
human effort, then has Lancaster, 
For a century this town of the North 
Country has sent forth from every 
generation of its sous those who by 
deeds of heroism on the field of battle, 
by the power of their eloquence in the 
halls of legislation, or by triumphs in 
the realms of industry, trade, and 
finance, have exerted a potent and 
lasting influence in shaping and de- 
veloping the destinies of state and 
nation. When it is considered that 
this town of Coos county never had, 
at one time as many as four thousand 
souls, it is indeed a singular fact that 
she should have raised so many dis- 
tinguished sons. 

Again it is to be noted that not- 
withstanding the enormous increase 
of the population of state and nation 
and the increase of vast industrial and 
commerical centers, Lancaster, un- 
like man}^ of the smaller and older 
settlements, still maintains her faculty 
of turning out men possessing the 
ability to assume responsibility and 



leadership in every walk of life. She 
has her leaders at the bar like Drew, 
and her statesmen like Jordan, and in 
the still younger times have those of 
her sons, fresh from her hillsides, 
found their way into those, in a sense, 
newer fields of efforts, — trade and 
finance, the vastness of which staggers 
and mystifies the layman. Success 
in these fields demands the display of 

John W. Weeks. 

a most diversified talent, the most un- 
erring judgment, and a most compre- 
hensive discernment of the conditions 
as they are to-day and what they are 
likely to be on the morrow. It is 
)ust to assume that one who has proven 
himself equal to the exactions of 
American financial undertaking on its 
present day scope and diversity has 
ability and talent that equip him for 
any position in the political and ma- 
terial life of the day. Such a man as 

is here presumed is John Wingate 
Weeks, and the venture is here made 
that there will not be a solitary dissent 
to such a classification. Mr. Weeks 
has proven himself not only an astute 
financier in the truest sense of the word, 
but he is an embodiment of all those 
traits that most fittingly represent the 
truest American citizenship of the 
da)' and perhaps the best thing that 
can be said of him is that he is en- 
deared to his fellow acquaintances not 
for what he has, nor for the material 
aids within his power, but for what 
he is as a man and a citizen. 

He was born in I^ancaster, April 1 1, 
i860, and it was in that town that he 
received his primary and preparatory 
education. At seventeen he won an 
appointment to the United States 
Naval academy, Annapolis, and 
passing the rigid mental and physical 
examinations began the four years' 
course and completed it with credit to 
himself and the institution. Upon 
graduation he was first assigned to the 
Poivhattan and later to the Richmond. 
In 1883 he left the naval service to 
accept the position of assistant land 
commissioner for the Florida Southern 
railroad and held the same for five 
years, living during the time in the 
peninsular state. In 1888 came the 
change that seems to have led him into 
his main life-work that of banking in 
all its phases and ramifications. In 
that year he became associated with 
Henr}' Hornblower as the firm of 
Hornblower & Weeks, bankers and 
brokers, with offices at 10 Wall street, 
New York, and 53 State street, Boston. 
From the date of its inception to the 
present a signal and uninterrupted 
success is the record of the house and 
to-day it is one of the large banking 
firms in Boston. In the Wall street 


office a total of fifteen people are em- entered the naval service of the coun- 

ployed, while thirty-five are required try. He had kept alive his interest in 

at the Boston office. A large part of the affairs of the navy by an efficient 

the second floor of the huge Exchange and ardent service in the Massachu- 

building on State street is utilized by setts Naval Brigade, and had greatly 

the firm and all its various rooms and aided in making it the splendid corps 

offices are arranged with a view to the it was. He was first made comman- 

most economical and efficient trans- der of the fourth division and later 

action of business. Thus far in his of the first battalion, and then cora- 

manhood life Mr. Weeks has proven mander of the brigade, holding the 

himself a success in all he has under- latter position for six years. In the 

taken, and fate or fortune has led him war with Spain he was one of the first 

into various fields. Public recognition three volunteers to be commissioned 

of his worth as a financier was shown in the navy and was made commander 

by his selection in 1899 as president of the second division of the auxiliary 

of the Massachusetts National bank navy and had command of the coast 

of Boston. When he became presi- and marine squadrons, 

dent of the Massachusetts National In the recent report of Rear Admiral 

bank it had deposits in round numbers Bartlett, retired, upon the service of 

of $1,000,000. In less than three the naval militia in the war with 

years its deposits reached a total in Spain, he accords a high measure of 

excess of $6,500,000. During the year praise and commendation to Captain 

of 1903 the bank was merged with the Weeks for what he did as an officer in 

First National bank of State street, command of an important department. 

Boston, and Mr. Weeks became its The governor of Massachusetts also 

vice-president, and is active in the made official mention of the excellence 

administration of its affairs. He is of his work and Admiral Dewey, in a 

the president of the Newtonville letter, gave unhesitating praise to 

Water companj' and liquidating agent Captain Weeks and his command, 

of the Broadway National bank, The city of Newton, in what is 

Boston known in Massachusetts as the Met- 

Mr, Weeks has a personality, indi- ropolitan district, has been the home 

viduality, and originality and by this of Mr. Weeks for ten years. It has a 

last is meant that in his characteristics population of some forty thousand, the 

he is not a follower of some one else. He great majority of whom are those of 

shows the value and efficiency of that wealth and educational attainment. As 

splendid training which evolves the a resident of Newton Mr. Weeks was 

American naval officer at the national at once placed on the list of eligible 

school, respected not alone for his ones for any place in the gift of the 

rank and dress but for his training as city. He served three years as alder- 

a gentlemen. man and at the city election of 1901 

An interesting page in the life story was elected mayor for the year of 1902. 

of Mr. Weeks is the promptness with Going before the people of Newton as 

which he left his home and great bus- the nominee of the Republican party 

iness interests upon the breaking out he had two competitors for the may- 

of the Spanish- American war and re- oralty election. The vote at the polls 



was the largest in the history of New- 
ton as a city, and Mr. Weeks was 
triumphantly elected, his vote exceed- 
ing the vote for both of the other 
candidates by nearly 500. Upon his 
induction into office he made his pri- 
vate business secondary and subserv- 
ient to the city's affairs and worked 
like the faithful and diligent servant 
that he was for the advancement of 
the city's material good. In the city 
election of 1902 he was renominated 
for a second term and reelected by 
a vote greater than two out of every 
three that were cast. 

The longer he served for mayor the 
stronger he became with the citizens 
of Newton. It was no wonder then that 
before one half his second term had 
expired his fellow-citizens sought him 
out to prevail upon him to accept still 
another term as the city's chief exec- 
utive. This they did personally and 
by organized effort in the form of 
signed petitions. But Mr. Weeks 
declined further service. 

In 1896 Mr. Weeks was a member 
of the board of visitors to the naval 
academy by appointment of President 
Cleveland, and for six years was a 
member of the military board of ex- 

As would be expected, Mr. Weeks 
has a charming home in Newton. 
Mrs. Weeks comes also from an hon- 
ored New Hampshire family, as she 
was the daughter of the late Hon. 
John G. Sinclair, and a sister of Col. 
Charles A. Sinclair. They have two 
children, a daughter, Katherine S., 
and a sou, Charles S. 

Conspicuous among the younger 
members of the legal profession in 
Boston and active and successful 
in its political life is Guy W. Cox, 
who although but in his early thir- 

ties has twice been chosen as a Re- 
publican member of the Massachu- 
setts legislature, and that from one of 
the wealthiest and most representative 
Boston districts, the tenth Suffolk. 
His legislative career began with the 
session of 1903, and at the last an- 
nual election he was returned for the 
aproaching session of 1904, and in 
which his friends and constituents 

Guy W. Cox. 

predict he will win new and well- 
earned laurels. 

Mr. Cox is a native of Manchester, 
in which city he was born on January 
19, 1 87 1. His parents are Charles 
E., warden of the New Hampshire 
state prison, and Evelyn (Randall) 
Cox. His preliminary education was 
gained in Manchester. 

He was born brimful of genuine 
talent, and those qualities of heart 
and mind that win the respect and 
friendship of men. He entered Dart- 
mouth with the class of 1893 and 
during his collegiate course won hon- 



ors in Latin, Physics, Chemistry, and 
special honors in Mathematics, and 
as a climax to a brilliant college 
course graduated the valedictorian of 
his class. In 1896 he was given the 
degree of Master of Arts. After 
leaving college he became a teacher 
in the Manchester High school, and 
later still in the evening High school 
of Boston. Deciding upon the legal 
profession as a life-work he entered 
the law school of Boston university, 
from which he graduated in 1896 
with the degree of Lly. B., mag7ia 
I'lim laude. Upon his admission to 
the Suffolk county (Mass.) bar he be- 
came a member of the firm of Butler, 
Cox & Murchie, whose olBces are in 
Tremont building. The senior member 
of the firm is William M. Butler, who 
for several sessions was the president 
of the Massachusetts senate. In ad- 
dition to his membership in the Mas- 
sachusetts legislature Mr. Cox has 
served as a member of the Boston 
common council from ward ten. In 
the legislative session of 1903 he 
served as a member of the committee 
on cities, which is called upon to con- 
sider more matters than any one com- 
mittee in that body. He was the 
spokesman of the committee on the 
floor of the house and its principal 
measures were placed in his charge. 
As an evidence of the regard in which 
he was held by his fellow-members it 
may be cited that he was selected by 
the leaders of both parties to make 
one of the leading speeches at the 
closing exercises of the house of rep- 
resentatives in 1903, an exceptional 
honor for a first-year man. He is sec- 
retary of the Dartmouth Alumni asso- 
ciation, a member of the Republican 
club of Massachusetts, the Wollaston 
club, and the University club, Boston. 

By general consent, easily among 
the first of the men to do efficient and 
telling service in the primary work of 
organizing the New Hampshire Ex- 
change club is Edwin DeMeritte, and 
from its inception to the present his 
has been an unflagging interest for its 
general good and prosperity. Mr. 
DeMeritte's is one of the best-known 
names in the educational life of Bos- 
ton, and the present principal of the 
DeMeritte private school for boys at 
30 Huntington avenue. Since 1872 
he has continued a career as a Boston 
instructor and in this length of years 
thousands of the youth of New Eng- 
land have received instruction from 
him. His present school w-as estab- 
lished in 1900 to give boys a thorough 
preparation for any college, scientific, 
or technical school, and a practical as 
well as liberal English course. 

Mr. DeMeritte is a native of Dur- 
ham, and was born March 3, 1846. 
His parents were Stephen DeMeritte 
and Mary P. (Chesley) DeMeritte. 
Stephen DeMeritte was in his da}- 
active in the affairs of the state and 
had a most honorable service in the 
state senate. That he did not be- 
come governor of the state was from 
reason of his declining a tendered 
nomination that would have been 
equivalent to an election. The fam- 
ily ancestry includes that John De- 
Meritte who with John Sullivan, John 
Langdon, Captain Pickering, and 
others seized the powder at Fort Will- 
iam and Mary that later proved so 
valuable at the battle of Bunker Hill. 

Young DeMeritte attended the 
schools of his native Durham, and in 
the fall of 1862 entered upon a four 
years' course at Phillips Exeter, and 
upon its completion entered Dart- 
mouth as a sophomore and graduated 



Edwin DeMeritte. 
Photo, by J. A. Lorcitz, Boston. 

in 1869. Immediately subsequent to 
his graduation from Dartmouth he 
studied law, but late in 1870 he relin- 
quished his legal studies to accept a 
position as a member of the Hampton 
academy faculty. In 1872 he became 
a teacher in the long-renowned 
Chauncy Hall school, Boston, which 
city ever since has been his home. 
He remained at Chauncy Hall as a 
teacher twelve years, and where he 
became recognized as an exception- 
ally able teacher. In 1884 he, with 
others, established the Berkeley school 
in Boston, which proved an imme- 
diate success. In 1896 the Berkeley 
school bought out the Chauncy Hall 
school, uniting both under the name 

of the latter. As said, his present 
school had its beginning in 1900, 
but it has already become a lead- 
ing school of its kind in Boston, 
Its location is close to the Boston 
public library, the museum of fine 
arts, the Boston Y. M. C. A. build- 
ing, and other desirable and advan- 
tageous institutions. The rooms of 
the DeMeritte school were designed 
before a blow was struck for the con- 
struction of Huntington Chambers in 
which they are, and, therefore, are 
simply ideal for the purposes of a 
school. In the management of his 
school Mr. DeMeritte seeks other 
than the educational attainment of 
his boys, and not only to prepare 



them to ably enter the institutions 
of higher learning, but to develop 
manliness of character, honesty of 
purpose, and the power of applica- 
tion. The course of study is ex- 
tremely comprehensive and discreetly 
adapted to the needs of the individ- 
ual pupil, and thoroughly in har- 
mony with the most advanced ideas 
in educational work. Mr. DeMeritte 
has with him a corps of experienced 
teachers, each of high merit in his 
especial department. Athletics are 
encouraged as an aid to health and 
mental vigor. 

In addition to his school on Hunt- 
ington avenue Mr. DeMeritte owns 
and directs Camp Algonquin, a sum- 
mer camp for boys at Asquam lake, 
Holderness, N. H. This camp closed 
its eighteenth season with the sum- 
mer of 1903. The camp ground is 
located in the foot-hills of the White 
Mountains and has nearly twenty 
acres, and the camp has become 
widely known throughout New Eng- 

The camp was established in 1886, 
with room for twelve campers. The 
object of the camp is to develop 
manliness of character and honesty 
of purpose among the boys, and to 
strengthen them physically, so as to 
enable them to encounter the stren- 
uous w^ork of school life. Since then 
the demand for admission to the camp 
has resulted in its enlargement to its 
present limit of forty boys and the 

No association of loyal sons and 
daughters of New Hampshire, no 
matter where located, would be com- 
plete without the name of George 
Augustus Marden, so eminently and 
honorably does he represent the very 
essence of New Hampshire manhood, 

its resourcefulness and its integrity. 
As a student and graduate of Dart- 
mouth, as a soldier in the war be- 
tween the states, as a journalist of 
quite fifty j^ears; as an orator, scholar, 
and man of public life he has ac- 
quitted himself on every occasion with 
a credit that honored the state of his 
birth, the state of his adoption, and 
himself. He was born in Mont Ver- 
non, August 9, 1839, the son of Ben- 
jamin Franklin and Betsey (Buss) 
Marden. For some thirty-five years 
he has been a resident ot the city 
of lyOw^ell, and is the assistant treas- 
urer of the United States at Boston. 
He has been of prominence in 
Massachusetts since his first elec- 
tion to the state legislature for 
1873. First chosen clerk of the 
house in 1874, he was regularly 
elected to that office till 1883. Then 
he decided to seek election to the 
house again, with the purpose of be- 
coming a candidate for the speaker- 
ship. Having obtained both desires, 
he was first elected speaker for I883. 
He was again elected representative 
and the speaker for 1884. Although 
new to the gavel in 1883, when the 
session was the longest held before 
or since then, he made an exception- 
ally creditable record in the chair. 
In 1885 he was a member of the state 
senate. After being defeated in his 
candidacy for the senate the followang 
year, he was appointed by Governor 
Ames a trustee of the Agricultural 
college at Amherst. Beginning in 
1888, he was annually elected treas- 
urer and receiver-general of the 
commonwealth for five consecutive 
years, the statutory limit. He was 
a delegate in the national Republi- 
can convention of 1880, held in Chi- 
cago, where he ardently supported 



the nomination of General Grant. He 
has filled his present office since 
April, 1899, when he was appointed 
thereto for four years by President 
McKinley. He was subsequently re- 
appointed for a second term by Presi- 
dent Roosevelt in 1903. 

Mr. Marden's preparatory educa- 
tion was obtained at the Appleton 
academy in Mont Vernon, now 
the McCollom institute, of whose 
trustees he is president. Having en- 
tered Dartmouth college in the fall of 

Hon. George A. Warden. 

1857, he was graduated in July, 1861. 
In 1875 he was the Commencement 
poet of the Phi Beta Kappa society 
and in 1877 he delivered the Com- 
mencement poem before the Dart- 
mouth Associated Alumni. Of each 
of these societies he was the presi- 
dent for two years. 

Mr. Marden enlisted as a private 
in Company G., Second Regiment of 
Berdan's United States Sharpshoot- 
ers, in November, 1861, and was 
mustered into the United States ser- 
vice, receiving a warrant as second 
sergeant. Transferred to the First 
Regiment of Sharpshooters, in April, 
1862, he was with it during the Pen- 

insular campaign under McClelian 
from Yorktown to Harrison's Land- 
ing. On July 10 of the same year 
he was made first lieutenant and 
regimental quartermaster and sub- 
sequently served in that capacit}' un- 
til Jan. I, 1863, when he was ordered 
on staff duty as acting assistant 
adjutant-general of the Third brig- 
ade, Third division. Third corps. 
After serving in this position until 
the fall of 1863, having been in the 
battles of Chancellorsville, Gettys- 
burg, and Wapping Heights, he was 
ordered to Riker s Island, N. Y., on 
detached service. Soon after, at his 
own request, he was sent back to his 
regiment, with which he remained 
until it was mustered out in Septem- 
Ijer, 1864. 

Having returned to New Hamp- 
shire Mr. Marden entered the law 
office of Minot & Mugridge at Con- 
cord, where he engaged in the study 
of law and also wrote for the Concord 
Daily Monitor. In November, 1865, 
he removed to Charleston, W. Va., 
and purchased a weekly paper, which 
he edited until April, 1S66, when he 
returned to New Hampshire. Then 
he worked for Adjutant-General Natt 
Head, compiling and editing a history 
of each of the state's military organ- 
izations during the Civil war. In 
the meantime he wrote for the Con- 
cord Mo7ii{or, and was the Concord 
correspondent of the Boston Adver- 
tiser, having obtained this post in 
July, 1866. He accepted, January i, 
1867, the position of assistant editor 
of the Boston Advertiser and dis- 
charged its duties until the Septem- 
ber following. Then, conjointly with 
his classmate, Maj. E. T. Rowell, he 
purchased the Lowell Daily Courier 
and the Lowell Weekly Journal, both 



of which he has since conducted. On 
September i, 1892, the partnership 
of Messrs. Marden & Rowell was su- 
perseded by a stock corporation, styled 
the Lowell Courier Publishing com- 
pany, the two proprietors retaining 
their respective interests in the en- 
terprise. Since January i, 1895, the 
Courier company has been united 
with the Citizen company under the 
name of the Courier-Citizen company, 
Mr. Marden remaining in editorial 
charge of both papers. 

Mr. Marden's first vote in a oresi- 
■dential election was cast for Abra- 
ham Lincoln. Since 1867, there has 
been no election, state or national, 
when he did not serve his party on 
the stump. As a speaker, he has 
also been in much request for Me- 
morial day and for jubilee anniver- 
saries generally. In April, 1893, he 
delivered a memorable address at the 
reunion of the " Old Guard," held in 
celebration of General Grant's birth- 
day. He also spoke at the banquets of 
theNew England Societyheld inNew 
York on Forefathers' day of 1889 
and 1892, the invitations to which he 
regards as the greatest honor of his 

Married at Nashua, December 10, 
1867, to Mary Porter Fiske, daugh- 
ter of Deacon David Fiske of Nashua, 
he has two sons, Philip Sanford, 
born in Lowell, January 12,1874, who 
was graduated at Dartmouth college 
in 1894, and ?t the Harvard Law 
school in 1898 ; and Robert Fiske, 
born at Lowell, June 14, 1876, who 
was graduated at Dartmouth in 1898. 
Mr. Marden was the first commander 
of Benjamin F. Butler post, No. 42, 
G. A. R., and is a companion of the 
Massachusetts Commandery of the 
Loyal Legion. 

The membership rolls of the New 
Hampshire Exchange club contain 
the names of men who represent 
practicall)' every honorable calling in 
life and among them is the name of 
at least one civil and sanitary engi- 
neer of national repute, that of John 
N. McClintock, whom older readers 
of the Granite Monthly will recall 
as its one time editor and publisher 
and whom the general public remem- 
bers as the author of a history of 
New Hampshire, that is recognized 
as a valued and standard work. 
To-day Mr. McClintock is the presi- 
dent and general manager of the 
American Sewage Disposal company 
which has its offices at 45 Milk street, 

Mr. McClintock has also built up 
an extensive clientele as a consulting 
engineer and particularly in reference 
to sewage purification in which 
science he is regarded as one of the 
leading experts in the country. So 
late as October of the current year 
he attended the ninth annual con- 
vention of the American Society of 
Municipal Improvements, commonly 
called the municipal league, and be- 
fore it read by request a paper enti- 
tled " The Biological System of 
Sewage Disposal." The convention 
was held in the city of Indianapolis, 
Indiana, and was attended by the 
managers of the greater cities of the 
land and b}- representative engineers. 
The paper by Mr. McClintock was 
reprinted almost wholly by the In- 
dianapolis papers and was highly 
commended. The system of sewage 
disposal controlled by Mr. McClin- 
tock's corporation is one that leading 
cities have taken steps to adopt or 
have already installed. It is an 
American system that reduces the 



cost of sewage disposal to a minimum, 
and not only this, secures an effluent 
that is purified in its strictest sense. 
In a report made to the city of Balti- 
more in 1903 Mr. McClintock says 
of the system : 

escapes in the form of volatile but very offensive 
gases, leaving a small amount of residuum, 
partly mineral, in the bottom of the receptacle ; 
an enclosing structure with provision for 
said gases ; secondary open-air filters upon 
which the liquid effluent flows from said first 
receptacle through such material, or means of 
discharge, as to hold back the solid matter, and 

John N. McClintock. 

The American system (invented by Amasa S. 
Glover) makes it possible to purify 50,000,000 
gallons of sewage a day on 50 acres of land, and 
obtain as satisfactory an effluent as from 2,000 
acres by intermittent filtration, or from 6,000 
acres by sewage farming. 

In a word it is this : a receptacle for the 
sewage in which the solid matters are liquefied 
and resolved into constituents, a part of which 

emit only the liquefied and partiallj- purified 
effluent, whose purification is then completed 
by a process of oxidation and nitrification on 
said open-air filters. 

And again he further describes the 

To summarize the proposed process of dis- 
posing of sewage : it takes the crude sewage 



and divests it by " septic action," as the bacte- 
rio-chemical changes are named, of all offensive 
matter, and very largely of all impurities ; and 
then, by nitrification and oxidation, completes 
the purification ; so that what enters the works 
as sewage is therein converted back into its 
harmless elements ; and what comes out of the 
works as an effluent is merely harmless water, — 
as harmless as the natural water of the harbor 
into which it would be discharged. 

No single question more deeply 
concerns the American municipality 
of to-day than that of sewage dis- 
posal, and the indications are that the 
system recommended by Mr. McClin- 
tock is to solve this serious and here- 
tofore unsolved problem. An exper- 
imental plant illustrating the work- 
ing of the system is in operation at 

In 187 1 Mr. McClintock made the 
city of Concord his home, he having 
married Miss Josephine Tilton of that 
city. At the time of his going to 
Concord he was connected with the 
United States coast survey. In 1867 
he graduated from Bowdoin college, 
from which institution he later re- 
ceived the degree of Master of Arts. 
In 1875 he left the service of the na- 
tional government and establishing 
himself as a civil engineer became 
identified with important engineering 
projects throughout New Hampshire. 
In 1879 he became identified with the 
Granite Monthly, later becoming 
its sole editor and publisher and so 
continued for twelve years. In 1891 
he settled in Boston, devoting his 
entire time to his specialty in engi- 

The legion of Dartmouth graduates 
in the years extending from the later 
sixties to 1897 will feel a kindly in- 
terest in Daniel Blaisdell Ruggles, 
already mentioned as one of the com- 
mittees of the club, for he is the son 
of the late Edward R. Ruggles, for 

near thirty years professor of mod- 
ern languages at Dartmouth. His 
mother, prior to her marriage, was 
Charlotte Blaisdell. The subject of 
this sketch was born in Hanover, 
January 11, 1870, and his prelimi- 
nary education was gained in the 
schools of that town. Entering 
Dartmouth he graduated with the 
class of 1890 when in his twentieth 
year. After leaving Dartmouth he 
became a student at the Boston Uni- 

Daniei B. Ruggles. 

versity law school, and in 1892 was 
admitted to the Suffolk county bar 
and at once began practice in Boston, 
having a present ofiice in the Tre- 
mont building. His is a general 
practice and a highly successful one. 
He has an extended acquaintance in 
and about Boston and is esteemed for 
his many traits of genuine manhood. 
In 1897 he married Miss Ellen C. 
Morrill of Cincinnati, Ohio. They 
have one child, Daniel Blaisdell, Jr., 
and live in Jamaica Plain. 



The senator-elect from the third 
Middlesex district for the 1904 ses- 
sion of the Massachusetts legislature 
is John M. Woods of Somerville, a 
native of the town of Pelham and in 
whom New Hampshire has no more 
loyal and worthy son now resident of 
Massachusetts. It was as a Repub- 
lican that he was elected to the state 
senate of Massachusetts, but twelve 
years ago, when his political affilia- 
tion was with the Democratic party. 

John M, Woods. 

lie was sent from his district, which 
at the time had a Republican major- 
ity of voters, to represent it in the 
lower branch of the Massachusetts 
legislature, and to the same branch 
was he returned at the next succeed- 
ing election. As a senator-elect he 
was chosen by a plurality of four 
thousand, his district including the 
city of Somerville and the towns of 
Arlington and Belmont, three com- 
munities known far and wide for the 
wealth, intelligence, and moral worth 
of their residents. 

Mr. Woods has proven himself a 
man of brilliant natural abilities, and 
by dint of industry, skilfully directed 
effort, and mental grasp of the con- 
ditions unfolded by the onward roll 
of time, has attained to positions in 
the business, social, and material 
community that do him extreme 
credit. Fortuitous circumstances 
have had nothing to do with his suc- 
cess, for as boy and 3'oung man his 
lot in life was anything but promis- 
ing because of the scant opportunities. 
Hard and unremitting toil was his lot 
all through the years of his minority, 
and then came three years of service 
as a soldier in the Civil war. Becom- 
ing a workman in a lumber yard, 
he showed the stuff within him by 
advancing from $12 a week to $50, 
and then to a salary of $4,000 a 

Not pausing here he went, step by 
step, into business for himself, organ- 
izing the firm of John M. Woods 81 
Co., dealing in mahogany, hard- 
wood lumber, and veneers, with yards 
and offices at 223 to 253 Bridge 
street, East Cambridge, Mass. The 
house is one of the largest of its kind 
in the United States, and Mr. Woods 
has been honored by the lumber trade 
of the country by election as presi- 
dent of its national association. 

In spite of his limited educational 
means in youth, Mr. Woods is a man 
of genuine intellectual attainment. 
For 3'ears he has been popular as a 
Memorial day speaker, and has made 
numerous addresses on forestry 
preservation and direction before 
bodies of national character and 
scope. For twelve years he has been 
president of the Saturday Evening 
club, a literary societ}' of Somerville. 
He was the organizer and first presi- 


dent of the Somerville Association of ship in other fraternal societies. He 

Sons and Daughters of New Hamp- is an esteemed and active member of 

shire. He is an Odd Fellow, a the Prospect Hill Congregational 

Knights Templar, and has member- church in Somerville. 


By F. H. Meloon, Jr. 

[The legend is of Roxbury, X. H., earlj' founded by the Buckniiiifters, and now practically deserted.] 

By Roxbury's deserted town, 

Not full a mile outside, 
Where oaks in rude defiance frown, 

A Tory once did hide. 
The mad rebellion 'gainst the king 

Was little shared by him, 
And so he dwelt, a hunted thing, 

Within a cavern dim. 

By Roxbury's deserted town 

The trav'ler still descries 
A rocky cave, half tumbled down. 

Before his wond'ring eyes. 
'Twas there the Tory dwelt of old, 

'Twas there they found him dead, 
'Twas there they laid him 'neath the mould 

Within his lonely bed. 

By Roxbury's deserted town 

The twilight trav'ler sees 
An aged form go skulking down 

Across the bush-grown leas. 
It creeps by wood, it creeps by wall, 

A musket for a stave. 
And soon its ghostly footsteps fall 

Inside the Tory's cave. 

By Roxbury's deserted town 

The summers come and go. 
The suns successive smile or frown 

Above the winter snow. 
Go ask Buckminster, if you will, 

Who is that ghost-like knave ? 
He'll bid you hold your speech until 

You've trod the Tory's cave. 




By G. A. Cheney. 

T was a goodly and God- 
fearing company of men 
and women that came 
np, for the most part 
from the state of Massa- 
chusetts, and founded the town of 
Cornish on the New Hampshire side 
of that stretch of territory long since 
styled, from the great sound on the 
south to near the Canadian line on 
the north, as the Connecticut River 
valley. So inviting was its prospect 
and abundant its promise that less 
than a score of years had elapsed 
from the settlement at Plymouth bay 
ere colonists pushed out from the 
coast, and leaving the intervening 
territory behind them, entered the 
rich and fair valley and began upon 
the foundations of what proved as 
grand a civilization as mankind 
has ever known. For years long 
continued there was in each pi- 
oneer's home that citadel of early 
American life, a family altar, and a 
recognition, profound and intense, of 
the individual's responsibility to God. 
From out these conditions came the 
church and schoolhouse and the 
maintenance of these was ever and 
undeviatingly the primary concern of 
the people of the valley. Hamlet 
succeeded hamlet, to the north and 
to the south, within the valley. 
Hamlets grew into towns and towns 

into cities and there came in a short 
time to be a line of church spires that 
not only suggested the celestial wa)^ 
but the terrestrial road from the sound 
to the wilds of northern New Hamp- 
shire. Within the protecting care of 
these churches grew and multiplied 
the school, the academy, the college, 
and the university, until the number 
of these institutions of higher learn- 
ing that dot the valley from its south- 
ern line to New Hampshire's educa- 
tional pride at Hanover, affords one 
of the most marvelous and inspiring 
sights in American national life. 

The presence of these lesser and 
greater institutions of learning, up 
and down the Connecticut River val- 
ley, suggests the type of manhood 
that first came and for generations 
dwelt therein. It was characterized by 
strength and breadth of intellect, and 
this fostered and nurtured to the ut- 
most extent of the means at hand could 
have but one result, — the develop- 
ment of a class and community in 
which intellectual development, prog- 
ress, and acquisition were pre-eminent. 
It was the fulfilment of natural law. 
In no generation during the eigh- 
teenth and nineteenth centuries was 
the valley without its scores of men 
of national fame because of their in- 
tellectual merit and power. Indeed, 
there came to be a class called in the 



rest of New England " the Connect- 
icut river gods," and it was custom- 
ary to speak of this or that man as a 
Connecticut river god, and especi- 
ally so during all those thrilling and 
portentous years in the political his- 
tory of the country that had their 
culmination in the War of the Re- 

The men and women who went 
from the nearer coast towns to found 
new settlements along the Connecti- 
cut river were of the best young 
blood of tlie new colonies and in 
many instances the first-born in the 
land, and their especial work was the 
building of a nation upon lines laid 
down for them by their fathers at 
Plymouth and Massachusetts bays. 
The founders and later settlers of the 
New Hampshire towns in and adja- 
cent to the Connecticut River valley 
were typical of this olass. For gen- 
erations the valley had an attraction 
for those whose earlier ancestors had 
lived near the coast ; it was to them 
the "out West" of the then country. 
Of these earlier settlers in the coast 
towns of Massachusetts was Walter 
Powers, who took up his abode in 
Salem in 1639 and became the Amer- 
ican progenitor of a numerous line 
that in all the generations since has 
played a most important part in the 
diversified interests of the country. 
Descendants of the family made their 
home in Worcester county, Massa- 
chusetts, and there, in the towns of 
the Blackstone valley and its contig- 
uous territory, became identified with 
its industrial, educational, and kin- 
dred interests. One descendant made 
his way to Woodstock, Vt., which 
is at least near the Connecticut 
River valley, and a son born to him 
grew to manhood and a world-wide 

fame as Hiram Powers, the sculptor, 
the greatest artist in his line that 
America has yet produced. 

That branch of the family that set- 
tled and lived in Worcester county 
was not only strong in itself but gath- 
ered thereto still greater power of 
physical and mental vigor and viril- 
ity by intermarriage with families 
prominent in that county. It is a 
family in which blood has told 
throughout the generations and in 
many of its lines at least is in this day 
asserting itself nobly and with added 

A descendant in the sixth genera- 
tion from that Walter Powers of Salem 
was lyarned Powers, who with his 
wife, Ruby (Barton) Powers, came in 
the course of time to live in the town 
of Cornish, which, as said at the out- 
set of this article, was settled by and 
continued to attract to its borders for 
years, men and women of high moral 
worth and intellectual attainment. 
To them was born on October 26, 
1848, a son whom they named Sam- 
uel IvCland Powers, the subject of 
this sketch. His boyhood days were 
passed in his native town attending 
the village schools and in work upon 
the parental farm , Thus he grew to 
early manhood in the Connecticut 
River valley and amid its atmosphere 
of thought and mental action and in 
years of great national study of 
measures and policies of deepest con- 
cern. He was reared in a territorial 
region through which passed a line 
of educational institutions of which 
Dartmouth was its northern terminal, 
and this same region in the years of 
his youth and early manhood 
abounded with men who had been 
and still were active and leading par- 
ticipants in the affairs of the nation. 



The times, the locality, and the con- 
ditions were propitious for the growth 
and development of this young mind. 
From the Cornish schools he con- 
tinued his preparatory studies at 
Kimball Union academy at Meriden, 
and at Phillips Exeter. From the 
first he was a thorough scholar, and 
was blessed with a splendid physique 
and constitution, conditions that sus- 
tainetl the like splendid mental nature. 
In 1S70 he entered Dartmouth and 
graduated a member of the now 
famous class of 1S74. Among his 
classmates were Frank Xesmith Par- 
.sons, now chief justice of the su- 
preme court of New Hampshire ; 
Frank S. Streeter, so easily among 
the leaders of the New Hampshire 
bar; Edwin G. Eastman, attorney- 
general of New Hampshire ; Samuel 
W. McCall, one of the leading mem- 
bers of the Massachusetts delegation 
in congress; William H. Davis, 
D. D., pastor of the Eliot Congre- 
gational church in Newton. Mass.; 
John Adams Aiken, a justice of the 
superior court of Massachusetts, and 
others of like prominence scattered 
throughout the countrv. When it 
is considered that the men of Dart- 
mouth's class of 1874 are still young, 
then to have attained so much dis- 
tinction already, is but to presage 
.still greater senown for the class in 
coming years. 

Upon his graduation from Dart- 
mouth, and having decided to enter 
the legal profession for a life career, 
he went to Worcester, Mass., and 
became a student in the office of 
Verry & Gaskill, supplementing his 
studies there by a course in the Uni- 
versity of New York. As a student 
in the Worcester office he was fortu- 
nate in his preceptors, if such tlie}^ 

G. M.— 23 

may be called. The senior member, 
the late George 1*'. Verry, was then 
one of the most brilliant men at the 
Massachusetts bar, and with almost 
unlimited practice. The junior part- 
ner, Frank Almon Gaskill, is now, 
and has been for some j-ears, a jus- 
tice of the superior court of Massa- 
chusetts, in which position he has 
displayed judicial qualities that are 
winning for him a lasting renown. 

Admitted to Worcester county bar 
in 1875, he began the practice of 
his profession in partnership with his 
classmate, Mr. McCall, at Boston. 
vSome six years ago the firm of Pow- 
ers, Hall & Jones was formed, having 
offices at loi Milk St., Boston. In all 
there are .seven men connected with 
the firm and its practice is one of 
the largest in the state of Massachu- 
setts. The firm does a general busi- 
ness, one that comprehends the prac- 
tice of law in all its phases. The 
causes it assumes include those of 
greatest magnitude for the firm has 
made for itself a reputation that is 
scarcely second to anj^ in New Eng- 

In 1 88 1 Mr. Powers made the city 
of Newton the place of his legal resi- 
dence and there he has continued to 
live to the present time. Newton is 
a city of near forty thousand people, 
and in their aggregate number they 
are probably not excelled in wealth, 
in intelligence, and general well be- 
ing by any other communitj' of like 
number in the I'nited States. To 
speak plainly and directly it is a com- 
munity of exceptionally able and 
well-equipped men, and for one to 
gain recognition among these he 
must from the sheer force of the sit- 
uation display abilities of the high- 
est order. The record of Mr. Powers' 



life as a resident of Newton includes 
a servnce in its common council, in 
its board of aldermen, and also its 
schoolboard. In 1886, only five years 
after his arrival in the city as a pro- 
spective resident, he was the Republi- 
can candidate for mayor but was de- 
feated by one of those strange com- 
binations of political life that come 
into being now and then for reasons 
that are past finding out. 

A second and more important chap- 
ter in his political career had its 
opening in 1900 when he entered the 
race for the Republican congressional 
nomination in the Eleventh, now the 
Twelfth, Massachusetts district. He 
had many competitors and each one 
a strong and well-equipped man. 
The words used herein to describe 
the city of Newton as respects its 
citizens are equallj- applicable to the 
congressional district. It is one of 
brains, wealth, and of proven ability 
and perhaps in these regards it is 
not surpassed by any other like politi- 
cal division in the country. In the 
campaign for the nomination his 
home city gave him a solid delega- 
tion and the remainder of the district 
rallied under his banner in numbers 
that secured for him the nomination. 
He was elected to congress by a 
liandsome majority and when con- 
gress convened he was made by 
Speaker Henderson a member of the 
judiciary committee, an exceptionally 
good appointment for a first term 
member. He was also given a third 
place on the committee on elections, 
and later on was transferred from 
that committee to membership on the 
committee on the District of Colum- 
bia, which has always been consid- 
ered one of the most important com- 
mittees of the house. During the 

first session of the sjtli congress Mr. 
Powers took an active part in debates 
upon the floor, making his first speech 
in favor of the river and harbor bill, 
and later on taking an active part in 
the debates on the bill for the protec- 
tion of the president against anarch- 
ists, and the amended bankruptcy 
bill. During the second session he 
was appointed upon the subcommit- 
tee of the judiciary committee, which 
is created for the purpose of drafting 
legislation for the regulation of the 
trusts, and also took a prominent 
part in the debate on that bill when 
it came up for consideration in the 

In 1902 he was renominated and 
reelected for a second term in con- 
gress where he now is and already a 
leader among his associates bj' their 
selection, not by his self-seeking or 
arrogating to himself honors that were 
not his. Mr. Powers is a natural 
born leader of men. Pie never ob- 
trudes himself, but his fellow-men, 
his associates, instinctively pick him 
out as a leader. This was distinctly 
shown in one instance during his 
first session in congress when upon 
the organization of the new members 
into a dining club called. The Tanta- 
lus, he was made its president. The 
Tantalus club is the largest dining 
club in congress. 

The congress of the United States 
is a place where a man is " sized up" 
very quickly for what he is and not 
for what an individual member may 
think he is. Reality as to ability is 
what counts. There can be no sub- 
stitute. Mr. Powers was " sized up" 
and found to be of full weight and 
measure and to-day he stands in his 
high place by the free will of his fel- 



He is one of the most popular 
stump speakers in Massachusetts. He 
can work all day in office or court 
room and then speak all night, as it 
were, at a rally of his adherents. His 
capacity for work is wonderful. Of 
quite massive frame he has a sound 
mind' as the reflex of a sound body. 

He is one of the men in public life 
that people are watching grow, and 
especially the people of his adopted 

In his own Newton and Boston 
he is a member of the Hunnewell 
and Newton clubs, of the second of 
which he was president three years. 
He also has membership in the Uni- 
versit}- club, the Ancient and Honor- 
able Artillery company, and the Vet- 

eran association of the Independent 
Corps of Cadets. In his church life 
he is a Unitarian, attending the wide- 
1)^ known Channing church of New- 
ton. Of special interest to New 
Hampshire is it to say that for the 
past fifteen 3^ears he has passed his 
summers on the shores of Lake Win- 
nepesaukee and about there and that 
he has decided to build within the 
borders of the state that gave him 
birth a comely summer home at an 
earl}^ da}-. The ancestral home of 
three hundred acres in Cornish is 
still retained by the famih-. 

In 1878 Mr. Powers married Miss 
Eva, daughter of Capt. Prince Crow- 
ell of Dennis, Mass. They have one 
son, Leland, born in 1890. 


By Frederick Myron Colby 

I heard the song of a singer 

As he held a crowd entranced ; 
And the music of his measures 

The joy of my life enhanced ; 
But in the heart of the singer 

Was a sweeter song unsung, 
A song no mortal can metre ; 

It gladdens an angel's tongue. 

I saw a wonderful painting 

That a famous artist wrought, 
A dream, a marvelous vision 

Which gladdened my inmost thought. 
But well I knew that the painter 

Had dreamed, in his hours of ease, 
Of visions of fairer beauty 

Than any his brush could seize. 

I inhaled a rose's perfume ; 

It wooed me with Circean wiles. 
The glamour of Eden's beauty 

And odors from spicy isles. 
But the sweetest rose that ever 

Enchanted our breath and eyes 
Blooms never in earthly gardens, 
'Tis the growth of Paradise. 

I drained from a jeweled beaker 
Its measure of ruby wine ; 

'Tvvas sweeter than fabled nectar, 
And filled me with bliss divine. 

But the joys of earth are briefer 
Than the sunset's dying gleam ; 

And only the sweet hereafter 

Shall give to what we dream. vSketchks, No. VII. 


Bv H. G. Leslie. M. D. 

HOSE silent friends that 
stand on library shelf 
and study desk, offering 
freely of their wealth of 
wisdom, and store of 
quiet enjoyment, fill no insignificant 
niche in the wall of human life. 
Other acquaintances require more 
formalities and social amenities than 
these that can be put aside at a mo- 
ment's notice and recalled without 
apologies. Companions are they that 
resent no slights and harbor no ani- 
mosities ; the dust of neglect may fall 
upon them, the careless eye overlook 
their worth, for a time, but they come 
again at our bidding and yield their 
wisest counsel at our demand. 

When the sun is shining brightly 
on the hills, and the air is filled with 
the note of song and the voice of 
laughter, the hours speed lightly by 
and the butterfly of pleasure leads in 
wanton paths ; but when the shadows 
of evening fall and the storm beats on 
the window-panes, dreary would be 
the gloom were we bereft of these 
caskets of thought and gems of soul, 
the vellum bound guardians of brain 
and heart. 

A man may pride himself on his 
secretive temperament and disposi- 
tion but one loop-hole is always left 
open in the castle of his environ- 
ments, which allows the curious eye 
to see the machinery working within, 
and that is his library — not the stray 
waifs that have been collected from 

time to time under varying circum- 
stances and conditions, but the books 
that bear the mark of real use, the 
pencil note, the index slip ; these are 
the guides to mental traits and pecu- 
liarities, more certain than a profession 
of faith or signature to creed. 

In my temporary home at vShore- 
line I found no extended list of liter- 
ary treasures. Such as presented 
themselves, however, were possessed 
of a peculiar character and flavor that 
gave me many hours of quiet enjo}^- 

Between the windows of Captain 
Somes' combination of kitchen and 
dining-room hung a row of plain pine 
shelves which contained his small but 
much-prized library. These were of 
the captain's own handiwork and be- 
traj^ed no especial skill in cabinet 
making. The woodwork of plain, 
unvarnished material, always scrupu- 
lously clean, had in the process of 
years assumed a tint of rich, deep 
amber, more artistic than any embel- 
lishment of painter's brush could 
make them. To this receptacle Mrs. 
vSomes had added the decoration of a 
much-befrilled muslin curtain. Here 
were gathered Captain Jared's liter- 
ary companions, each with a historj' 
of its own, and incidents connected 
therewith enhancing its value. 

In the lower left-hand corner of 
these shelves stood three books, more 
highly prized by the captain than any 
others in the collection. They were 


n ■^ ^ 

the ones placed in his hands when as 
a chubby boy he wended his w^ay for 
first lime to Dame Prevear's school on 
the hill. It might have required 
some stretch of the imagination for 
me to depict the scene, had not the 
captain so frequently and minuteh^ 
described it, even to the blue drilling 
frock and straw hat, braided by Aunt 
Wadleigh, which he w'ore on this 

These books were "The Young 
Reader," by John Pierpont, "Web- 
ster's Spelling Book," and "Peter 
Parley's Geography," all of which 
although showing the marks of much 
service remained in fairly good con- 

"The Young Reader" opened its 
pages of lore with an evident and un- 
blushing attempt at flattery. Whether 
the 5'outhful pupils recognized it as 
such and estimated it at its just value, 
is difficult to say, but one is often sur- 
prised to find that childhood possesses 
a keenness of vision and an insight 
into human motives wholly unex- 

" My child, what a good thing it is 
that you can read ; a little while ago 
you know, you could read only very 
small words ; and you were forced to 
spell them thus, c-a-t cat, d-o-g dog, 
now you can read pretty stories with 
a little help, and by and by, if you 
take a great deal of pains, you will 
be able to read them without help." 

This teacher anticipated by a long 
way the present method of learning 
to read by sight, without spelling the 
words. It is an open question whether 
this method has all the advantages 
claimed for it. Certainly the facility' 
of using a dictionary must be greatly 
limited where the picture formed in 
the mind is the sole guide. 

After this introduction "The 
Young Reader" presented a series of 
very simple tales, all of which were 
intended to illustrate some moral or 
religious thought. The one that 
seemed to have fastened itself most 
thoroughly in Captain Jared's mem- 
ory, and the one oftenest quoted by 
him, was a poem by some author 
whose name is not recorded in the 
Enc3-clopedia of English Literature, 
and related to the experiences of an 
old hen, with whom a wily fox de- 
sired a closer acquaintance : 

"A white old lien with yellow legs, 
Who'd laid her master many eggs — 
Which from the nest the boys had taken 
To put in cake or fry with bacon." 

" This," said the captain in his 
comments, " w^as no fancy fowl with 
a long name like Houdan, or Black 
Minorica, only fit to be shown at a 
a fair, but a plain, every-da}'^ hen, 
that knew what she was kept for and 
did the work she was expected to do, 
and did it well. I reckon it don't 
make much difference whether it is a 
bird or man ; if they do their duty 
square and fair, they are worthy of 
genuine respect. The man that wears 
a broadcloth coat and shiny hat, ain't 
a bit better than the one who has only 
got a pea jacket and duck trousers, 
unless he does better. It's the hen 
that lays the egg that is worth the 

I do not suppose that " Munchau- 
sen's Tales " or "Gulliver's Travels" 
were expected to be swallowed as lit- 
eral facts, but they were hardly more 
wonderful and imaginary than some 
of the lessons presented by Peter 
Parley. That geographical knowl- 
edge formed but a small part of the 
school curriculum of his day is easily 
seen from this book. His exceedingly 



patronizing air and complaisant refer- 
ence to his own personal experience 
is, to say the least, amusing. 

" There is a great ocean called the 
Atlantic. I have sailed over it sev- 
eral times. It takes about a month. 
There are several kings in Europe. 
I have seen them mj^self." 

So vast and profound a knowledge 
must have greatly impressed the 
youthful student; but if by any 
means he really believ^ed the world 
peopled by such strange and curious 
creatures as were represented by the 
wood-cut prints in this wonderful 
work, it is hardly possible to conceive 
that the sleep of childhood would be 
undisturbed by these weird phan- 

That delightful old essayist, Isaac 
Walton, says, " Doubtless God might 
have made a better berry than the 
strawberry, but doubtless He never 
did." With equal truth and but a 
slight change in phraseology, we 
might say that it is within the possi- 
bilities that man may make a better 
spelling book than that of Noah 
Webster, but surely no one has done 
it. It would be hard to compute the 
number now living at middle and ad- 
vanced life, who can recall the columns 
of words the familiarity with which 
gave them so thorough a command of 
the English language. What mem- 
ories cluster around its blue board 
covers, of spelling schools in lonely 
country districts, where the tallow 
candles fastened to the window-sill 
shed but a pale and uncertain light 
on the faces of the eager contestants 
in the arena where keen-edged mem- 
ory alone could win the victory. 
Good old Noah Webster ! It is said 
that he lived on the meagre returns 
of a penny a copy of this book, all 

the years in which he was compiling 
his dictionary ; but he had the satis- 
faction of knowing that he was leav- 
ing to his fellow-men a legacy that 
would be of value long after the blood- 
stained sods of battle-fields had borne 
their crop of the flowers of forgetful- 

This book was designed in part ta 
take the place of a reader, and aside 
from the long columns of brain-puz- 
zling words, had numerous selections 
imparting moral and religious truths. 

Perhaps no one of all these tales 
and precepts has been oftener quoted 
than that of "The Boy that Stole 
Apples." "An old man once found 
a rude boy in one of his apple trees." 

This was a great favorite with 
Captain vSomes, but he arrived at a 
far different conclusion from that 
which bore the title of "Moral" at 
the end. 

" A boy won't steal apples from any 
man if you treat him right. Now 
there ain't a boy in vShoreline but 
knows if he should come to me 
and say, ' Captain Somes, I should 
like one of your Blue Pearmains,' 
that he would get it. It's my opin- 
ion that the man that owned that 
apple tree was a mean old curmudg- 
eon, and the boy knew it. I tell you, 
boys are like anybody else ; they like 
to get even with a mean man. 

"If I should find one of those 
Mills hoodlums in one of my trees, 
don't you think that I should hunt 
for grass to throw at him. Not if I 
could find a fish-pole long enough to 
reach him. I would argue with him 
so that he would know the law of 
personal rights, as the lawyers say, 
forever after." 

" Now there's young Rube, he had 
been up to the bridge one night to^ 



throw rocks at the ' ferrj^ shad.' Ou 
the way back he let a stone go 
through my kitchen window. He 
came right in and said : ' Captain 
Somes, I broke a square of glass. I 
hain't anj- money, but I'll get Eben 
to set it and saw wood to pay for it.' 

" ' Xo you won't, Reuben,' said I ; 
' I'll take care of that glass myself, 
only be a little more careful in the 
future.' Now I bought that boy for 
a seven-cent pane of glass and a little 
work. One way and another, I own 
most of them on Shoreline, and 
might}^ good friends they be, too." 

One evening, in a search for some- 
thing to amuse me, I took from the 
captain's bookcase " The Life of Ben- 
jamin Franklin," " The Life of John 
Paul Jones," and finally hit upon a 
green pasteboard covered first edition 
of " Oliver Twist," illustrated by 
Cruikshank. As soon as Captain Jared 
saw what I had in my hand, he said : 
" Don't read that thing, it leaves a 
nasty taste in any one's mouth. I 
bought that one year when we were 
storm bound in Portland harbor, at a 
second-hand bookstore in the city, for 
ten cents, and I wish I had never 
seen it. Folks say that Dickens is a 
great writer, but if that is the kind of 
book he writes, and I could have ni}- 
way, he would be shut up in the pen- 
itentiary breaking rocks, rather than 
selling such stuff. 

" Perhaps it was all true, that story, 
but I reckon a man a thief and a 
robber that will put such things in a 
book. He just steals our good opin- 
ion of humanit5^ and that is worse 
than stealing hens. There are a lot 
of mean things in the world, I know, 
such as Bill Buswell letting his old 
father go to the poor house after he 
had got the farm and stock in his own 

name, because he didn't like to see 
the old man driveling around, he 
said ; and old Dave Hopper, who 
wouldn't buy his wife a quarter of a 
pound of tea, when she was dying 
with consumption, because he said 
hot water was better for her stomach. 
Nobody ever put those things in a 
book, and they will die out some 
time, but when you write a thing it 
never dies. Just to think of that 
poor, little, skinny Oliver Twist ask- 
ing for more porridge and the old vil- 
lain of a master abusing him. Why, 
it makes me so mad every time I 
think of it I want to go down on the 
wharf and kick over the eel-pots." 
The captain grabbed his pipe and hat 
and dove out of the back door. 

Mrs. Somes looked up from her 
sewing, and said : " Whenever Jared 
gets to talking about that book he 
gets real grump}^ ' ' I knew that Mrs. 
Somes had a far-away strain of Scotch 
blood in her veins and this word 
" grumpy " which she applied to the 
captain came from that source and 
meant a pig. The captain's exit was 
quite suggestive of the rush and 
"woof!" "woof!" of a startled 
porcine, and amused me not a little. 

" That little fat, dumpy book in 
the corner," continued Mrs. Somes» 
pointing to a copy of "Roderick 
Random," " the captain says ain't a 
nice book for a w^oman to read. I 
hain't never looked at it but he laughs 
as though it was a good story." The 
captain stayed down on the wharf for 
some time. Whether he performed 
the suggestive feat of kicking the 
eel-pots, I do not know, but when he 
returned all signs of the passing 
squall had vanished. 

On the upper shelf of the book- 
case were files of old almanacs, dating 



back to a period prior to the American 
Revolution. These were carefully 
sewed together with stout twine, in 
volumes of ten years each, and would 
have delighted the heart of any col- 
lector of such material. 

They were at first preserved by the 
captain's father, and, later on, when 
they had descended to him as a leg- 
acy, by the captain himself. We can 
hardl}^ reaHze at a time when the 
printing press is flooding the land 
with newspapers, magazines, and 
books, the value formerly placed on 
these annals of astronomical, philo- 
sophical, and literary knowledge. No 
chimney corner in all the land was con- 
sidered completely furnished without 
a nail on which to hang the almanac. 
To it was constant reference made, 
for knowledge of high and low water 
as well as the quarterings of the 
moon. It took the place of the mod- 
ern weather bureau and hazarded 
predictions on heat and cold, storm 
and sunshine, with nearly the same 
accuracy as its present-day rival, only 
claiming the latitude of a few more 
days in which to reach the truth. It 
was, moreover, a diary, in which was 
recorded all the notable events of the 
times and locality. A mingled flavor 
of the ludicrous and pathetic clings 
to these records. 

The first number in this collection 
bore the date of 1771 and was called 
an "Astronomical Diary, by Nathaniel 
Ames." This publication had held 
an established position for many years 
prior to this date, having been 
launched on the favor of the public in 
1726, and closed its career of useful 
instruction in 1775. " Poor Richard's 
Almanac "was a sharp competitor, 
the printing of which was conducted 
by " Andrew Newell, in Dorset's 

Lane," opposite the court house, 
Boston, from 1 733-1 758, Several of 
those compilations of wit, homely 
sense, and scientific knowledge, that 
have made this publication so famous, 
filled in the years following the Ames 

Isaiah Thomas commenced his pre- 
dictions of weather conditions in 
1775, which followed by his son, has 
become a familiar by-word through- 
out New England. "About this time 
look out for rain or snow," struggling 
down through the whole month gave 
a reasonably safe road of retreat for 
the prophetic seer. After about the 
year 18 10 the Thomas almanac 
seemed to have established itself in 
favor and furnished the bulk of the 
volumes to date. Among the single 
copies scattered here and there 
through the compilation appeared the 
works of Daniel lyOw, Bickerstaff, 
Houghton, Abraham Wiseman, and 
Dudley L,eavitt. This last publica- 
tion was represented by a single copy 
on the cover of which was written in 
scraggly hand, " Portsmouth, N. H., 
Dec. 15th, 1807 ; stormy." I called 
Captain Jared's attention to this note : 
"Yes," said he, " I remember when 
I bought that. I was only a boy then 
and bound up from the Kennebec in 
the old packet Nancy, with my 
father. It had been brewing bad 
weather all day, and when we were 
off Boone island it set in for a north- 
east snow storm ; so father decided to 
make for a harbor. We managed to 
sight Whale Back light before dark 
and run into Portsmouth. 

" Father sent me up town to get 
some supplies, and among other 
things I bought that almanac. I 
don't think he liked it very well, as 
he had never seen one like it before. 



I think he read it through before 
morning, for it was a bad night and 
he had to sro on deck everv little 
while to see if the lines were holding. 

" That was before they had stoves. 
Nothing but fireplaces ; one in the 
cabin and one forward for the cook, 
with little stubby chimneys that 
reached just above the deck. Ever}^ 
once in a while the wind would get a 
whirland comedown, seudingthe ashes 
flying like a dust signal. Very often 
at sea in rough weather, the cook 
could not keep a fire for days together, 
for the water would come down chim- 
ney and put it out ; besides, the ket- 
tles would bang about so that he 
couldn't use them. Not much like 
the galley on an ocean liner of to- 

' ' The only lamp we had burned 
fish-oil and was shaped like a small 
watering-pot, with the wick running 
out of the snout. My ! how those old 
lamps did flare and smoke until the 
cabin would smell like a Nantucket 
whaler trying oiit a fin-back." 

"The Scholar's Almanack and 
Farmer's Daily Register, by Dudlej^ 
Leavitt," was quite a high-sounding 
title, and the dedicatory lines were 
equally broad in their demands. 

'■ Give ine tlie ways of wandering stars to know 
The heights of heaven above, and stars below." 

Which covered a breadth of knowl- 
edge supposed to belong to few of the 
sons of men. 

His introductory address gave a 
very definite idea of what was ex- 
pected of a publication of this kind : 

" Reader, Tve often heard them say 
That every one on New Year's day 
Should have a small, new book to show 
What day "twould rain and when 'twould snow." 

In these calculations relating to the 

weather, Dudley Leavitt seemed to 
have no fixed rule, for it is related of 
him that one time when traveling 
through Nottingham he spoke to a 
farmer by the wa^'side, remarking 
upon the beauty of the morning. 
" Yes," said the son of the soil, " but 
it will rain like blazes before noon." 
The day was very fair and showed no 
signs of such a change, but before the 
almanac maker had ridden ten miles he 
was drenched to the skin b}' a sudden 
shower. Thinking that some strange 
and occult knowledge must have en- 
abled the farmer to make so accurate 
a prediction he decided to ride back 
and interview him. So, after retrac- 
ing his steps and again meeting the 
agriculturist, he said: " M3' friend, 
would you tell me how you were en- 
abled to hazard so good a guess on 
the coming of the shower which over- 
took me on my way ? " "Surely," 
said the farmer; " I had two infal- 
lible signs. When my old black ram 
bites his left hind foot, I know that it 
will rain before night. That is one I 
Then I buy Deavitt's almanack and 
when the cussed old liar says it will 
be fair, I know it will storm." As 
neither of these propositions seemed 
to be of especial value to the prognos- 
ticator he took up his journey with- 
out disclosing his identity. 

This small collection of books, of 
which I have mentioned only a part, 
would seem ver)^ insignificant if 
placed beside the well-filled cases of a 
modern library. Of making books 
there is truly no end. Far too many 
are but the husks and chaff of 
thought and have but an ephemeral 
existence. The question has been 
asked, " Who reads the writings of 
fifty years ago ? " and a brief review 
only is needed to show how many 


have passed into the grave of forget- grinding. The man who studies 
fulness. Perhaps this is just as well, theories in his own way, and arrives- 
The brain only needs a suggestive at conclusions from his own stand- 
idea over which to weave the gauzy point, is the graduate of a school ,^ 
web of its own personality. It is not which, although it may have no rec- 
well to absorb the half- chewed, half- ognized degrees, confers a ver)' satis- 
digested product of some one else's factor}^ type of education. 


(From the German of Sallet.) 
By Laura Garland Carr. 

Said the tree— its bright leaves hushing — 
To the wild brook, " Why this speed ? 

Why this restless, ceaseless gushing. 

Wave on wave forever rushing. 
Giving flowery banks no heed ? 

" Will you loose yourself forever — 

At each turn another be ? 
Cease this eager, fierce endeavor, 
In this fair ravine stay ever, 

Be from rush and worry free ! " 

Said the brook in answer — slowing — 

" In no one place can I stay. 
Aye, new phases I am showing. 
Take no step alike in going — 

vStrain and struggle all the way. 

" Flowery vales are not inviting — 
Too oppressive, cramped for me ; 
Only speed I take delight in 
Till, at last, I'm lost to sight in 
Ocean's cool infinity." 

Said the tree, " That's a false notion. 

See ! I flourish large and strong ! 
Drinking sunlight, feeling motion — 
With no longing for the ocean — 

Rooted firm to tarry long. 

" What you seek for in the distance 
Is about us everywhere. 
L,ook ! My boughs, without resistance — 
As a part of their existence — 
Touch infinity in air ! " 


By Louise Lew in Mattlicius. 

In sheeted vales, on snow-crowned hills, 
December days drift out the year 
With falt'ring steps, Time bowed in grief, 
Gives to the new a welcome cheer. 
So thus our life-days drift apace, 
Marked by the running sands away ; 
Soon other lives shall fill our place 
And love and live their nobler way. 


By C. C. Lord. 

When cruel winter seizes earth, 
And all her currents freezes numb, 

The patience of creation waits 
Till spring has come. 

The wintrj^ soul can only sit, 

With stifled joys and praises dumb. 

And muse in expectation fond 
Till spring has come. 

O love, when babbling streams resound. 
And buds unfold, and wild bees hum. 

Our hearts will melt. We dwell with frost 
Till spring has come. 


By Henry Kent. 

Without I hear a childish voice 
Impatient, in a game, cry out, 
" Don't throw it now, the sun's too bright, 
It's shining there right in my way." 
How many men there be about. 
Who blame the sun, or moon, or fate. 
For blinding their weak eyes, that gaze 
Too far above them, toward the light ; 
And try to push, however great. 
Some god or planet from its place. 


By Mary M. Currier. 

HK evening train, as it 
neared a certain New 
England town, bore 
among its passengers a 
little gray-haired, sad- 
faced woman, who, as the shadows 
deepened, pressed her face close to the 
window, unconscious of the fact that 
her fellow-travelers were regarding 
her with curiosity. 

She had come all the way from 
Arizona, this frail-looking, timid 
woman and she had come alone. 
She was not communicative but not 
one of those who noticed her could 
fail to understand that she had come 
back to the old home to make a long- 
dreamed-of visit. More and more 
familiar grew the roads, the hills, and 
the buildings. One could almost 
read the thoughts of that child-like 

" Here's the old bridge ; and here's 
where John Wilkinson used to live. 
How they have built up between John's 
house and the brook. The town's 
all lighted now. What a dark place 
this used to be here by the willows ! 
And the depot's over on the other 
side of the track. Well, here I am 
at last. It's a long ways to come but 
I'm glad I came. Now I hope I can 
find Ivizzie's house without anj' 

The train stopped and she stepped 
out, a little confused with the lights 
and noise, the changed location of 
the station, and the weariness of hei 
long journey. But after a moment's 
hesitation she started perseveringly 
on up one of the less frequented, 

" It 's been thirty years since I was 

here, thirtj^ years since I've seen 
Ivizzie. I wonder if she'll know me. 
I don't suppose she will, I've grown 
old so. But Lizzie isn't old yet. 
She won't be forty-nine till December 
and I'm sure I should know her any- 
where. She'll be getting supper. I 
believe I'm too tired to eat to-night. 
What a pit}^ if she should be gone ! But 
I could go to the hotel. How good it 
was of her to urge me to come ! Do 
come. Sarah, she wrote. I should be 
so glad to see you. Only one sister 
in the world and I've not seen her for 
thirty years ! It 's not right, Sarah ; 
come and see me, and come soon be- 
fore we get too old and feeble to run 
around together as we used to. 

" Before wc get old — she meant 
before I do, but she wouldn't say 
that. Yes, I'm glad I came. Now 
that he is gone there is nothing to 
stay away for. I hope nobody guessed 
what sent me so far from home to 
stay so long. But it isn't likely that 
any one did, for they all had their own 
affairs to think of and probably no- 
body stopped to question much about 
me. Poor Robert ! It's two years 
since he died, but I haven't had the 
heart to come before. And Lizzie 
didn't write how she was getting 
along. She has the old place yet, 
but I don't know how she manages 
to get the work done. I suppose 
she has a hired man, or perhaps a 
man and his wife take the farm and 
she boards'with them. Lizzie never 
was a great hand to write. Well, I 
shall soon see." 

She was now some little distance 
from the station and was nearing the 
old farm house where she and her 



sister had played iu childhood. She 
stopped to look about. A fine new 
house stood across the road opposite 
the old home, and a smaller one, but 
new and stylish, stood beside it where 
the garden used to be. 

After a moment she went on. There 
was a light in her sister's kitchen but 
none in the sitting-room. " Lizzie's 
getting supper," chought the old 
lady. "How surprised she'll be 1 
She did n't plan on having my com- 
pany to-night." 

She was now at the very door- step. 
Somebody came into the sitting-room 
but it was not Lizzie for she could 
hear her clattering the dishes farther 
awaJ^ Presently the person struck a 
match, lighted a lamp and, neglecting 
to pull down the curtains, seated him- 
self in Robert's arm-chair by the win- 
dow. It was not Robert. It was no 
hired man. It was a man perfectly 
at home. He glanced over the even- 
ing paper with no intimation of the 
nearness of the little silent woman 
who trembled as she looked at him. 

" Oh, Robert, to think that Lizzie 
could forget so soon ! and I have loved 
you all these years." 

Stealthily now, like a fugitive, she 
turned away and went back down the 
street. But after she had passed the 
smaller of the new houses she stopped. 
What if she should be mistaken after 
all ; to come so far and not see Lizzie 
— she would at least make sure. She 
went up to the house and rang the 
bell. " They will not know me," she 

A slender maid answered her ring 
and only half opening the door looked 
at her critically. 

" Will you please tell me who lives 
over there?" faltered the old lady 

" Mrs. O'Brien," answered the 

" She that was the widow Holton ?" 
persisted the questioner. 

" Yes,", answered the maid, and 
shut the door without further cere- 

It was no mistake then. Slowly 
and feebly the disappointed woman 
continued her way towards the busi- 
ness portion of the town. After some 
difficulty she found a hotel which she 
entered with a feeling of relief mingled 
with her weariness, bewilderment, and 
disappointment. Here, at least, was 
shelter and rest. 

As the clerk pushed the register 
towards her a strange idea came into 
her mind . For the first time in her long 
arrd busy life she was tempted to lie. 
She could not bear to write her own 
name where some one who had known 
her years ago might find it and learn 
that she had been back to the old 

She hesitated, but the clerk was 
looking and she took up the pen, then 
she remembered how when she and 
Maggie Driscoll were children at 
school they used to write their names 
sometimes with Mrs. before them just 
to see how funny they would look 
— Mrs. Maggie Driscoll, Mrs. Sarah 
Packard — and she began " Mrs. 
Robert" — what harm just for once to 
write it so ? He would forgive me if 
he knew — "Holton," the last word 
was blotted. 

She laid the pen down and looked 
at the name a moment. 

" I shall not go up to the cemetery 
to see the grave," she said to herself. 
Perhaps there is n't any stone for him. 
It's just as well if there isn't. It 
won't make au}^ difference. 

The next morning the train took 

332 MIGNON. 

on board a slender, sad-faced old lady it attracted the attention of her fellow- 

who pressed her face against the passengers. She had no words for 

pane in her attempt to see the hills any one but the look on her face said 

and fields of her native town as long in language understood by all, 
as possible, and who without knowing " I shall never see these hills again." 

By Mrs. O. S. Baketel. 

Amid the fleecy clouds of life, 
Shining with a lustre bright. 

If the shadows change the scene, 

" At evening time it shall be light." 

For the promise thus is given 
Us to see with human sight, 

As we read in Holy Writ, 

" At evening time it shall be light." 

The master's \Arords are ever true. 
Ours to view from lofty height. 

Still the same in depths below, 

" At evening time it shall be light." 

So, weary pilgrim on life's way. 

Ever striving for the right, 
Keep hoping, trusting, praying, 

" At evening time it shall be light." 

Ne'er lose courage but press on, 
Fight life's battles with thy might. 

Reach the goal and win the race 

" At evening time it shall be light." 

By George Bancroft GriffitJi. 

Her voice with soft caressing ring 
Is sweeter than the notes we sing ; 
The limpid light of her dear eyes 
Seems caught from fount in Paradise 

Pure as the flower winged rover sips 
The honey of her virgin hps ; 
God never made a fairer child. 
And may He keep her undefiled ! 

By Sematithe C. Merrill. 

HERE was a hush in the 
old church and the con- 
gregation passed onward 
with soft footfalls and 
low spoken words. Oc- 
casional glances were turned towards 
the gallery where stood handsome 
Brainerd Strong, the oxAy sou of the 
petitioner. The pra^^er for "our 
youth ' ' which had moved the sympa- 
thy of the audience was scarcely 
noticed by him. 

Deacon Spinney's pew and Lois 
Latham's face, or such glimpses as 
her large straw bonnet permitted of 
the pearly pink of her cheek, her 
golden curls, and wide-open brown 
eyes directed earnestly toward the 
pulpit, had out-rivaled sermon and 
prayer in the interest of the college 

Mrs. Spinney, too, seemed unaf- 
fected by the general sympathy. She 
carried her head aloft and passed 
Deacon Spinney's pew with a digni- 
fied nod of the head. 

" I hope it is soon enough for Miss 
Palmer to have the prayer meeting 
again," she said, as her husband 
drove from the church door. " She 
always wants it when Brainerd Strong 
is at home from college. I thought I 
could have it this week, as Patience 
Ann did not come home." 

'•Hush, Eunice," said her hus- 
band, reprovingly. 

" Now, the Elder will have to go 
to the Peak district, and the Plains, 
and perhaps the Square, before he 
comes again. Then Lois will be 

gone," said Mrs. vSpinney, " and the 
sparerib won't keep," she added 
quickly, hearing a short laugh from 
her son Lishe. 

Few words enlivened the remain- 
der of the homeward drive or the 
afternoon meal. When the early 
darkness came, all gathered around 
the huge fireplace, excepting Lois, 
who sat at the end of the long table 
trying to write a cheerful letter home. 
A troubled expression clouded her 
usually sunny face. Her dress, of 
coarse blue homespun, did not wholly 
conceal the grace of her slender fig- 
ure, and was brightened by a bit of 
well-kept ribbon. At the smallest 
provocation the color mantled her 
complexion, which was of delicate 
whiteness, and her truthful eyes had 
often a twinkle of fun in their depths. 
In her childhood she had been much 
with Aunt Eunice, and the closest of 
friends with Patience Ann. The lat- 
ter had been fond of imagining her 
future, or picturing her wedding 
scene, the handsome bridegroom, and 
Lois had always figured in the brides- 
maid's place. 

This was Lois' first visit to her aunt 
in some years. Her father had been 
in ill health, the farm mortgaged, and 
the holder threatened foreclosure. 
When Aunt Eunice had learned that 
the teacher of the Plains school was 
not certain of reelection, she had 
sent for her niece to come and apply 
for the position. 

Lois' pen was scratching its way 
down the page when, with much 



stamping of snow, a tall figure, but- 
toned into a threadbare overcoat, en- 
tered the room. 

' ' Good evening, Mis' Spinue)^ I 'm 
afraid I '11 bring snow into your clean 
kitchen. It snows amazin' fast, out." 

" Why, what sent you out in such 
a storm. Job?" asked Mrs. Spinney. 

" Cilly sent me over for some of 
your hot drops, Mis' Spinney." 

A basket was quickly filled with 
remedies and eatables, but JoJ) seemed 
in no hurry to leave. 

" Nice, comfortable fire you 've got 
here. Brother Spinney. I don't think 
I 'd change it for one of those black, 
shiny fire-boxes they 've got over to 
Brother Palmer's." 

" What do you mean," asked Mrs. 

"Haven't you heard about it? 
Shuts the fire all up in one place. 

"Well," said Mrs. Spinney, "I 
shall not feel it my duty to expose my 
health by going over there to Friday 
night meeting. They can't keep that 
kitchen warm with the fire all shut 
up in a box." 

The deacon looked displeased, and 
Lois' eyes were full of trouble. She 
feared that her aunt, in her ill humor, 
would say something to displease her 
old-time rival, vSally Palmer, whose 
brother was a member of the school 

On Friday afternoon, Mrs. Spinney, 
nimbly paring some apples, was sur- 
prised to see the minister at the door. 
She slipped pan and dish into the 
closet, threw a shawl about her shoul- 
ders, and sank into a rocking chair. 

"No," she told the Elder, "she 
should not think of going to the meet- 
ing. She had suffered all day from 
hoarseness and rheumatism." 

" Then I must drive over to Persis 

Hepburn's," he said, regretfully. "I 
hoped you would be able to learn 
some of the hymns in this book, and 
lead the singing this evening." 

Lois' heart sank again. Persis 
Hepburn was the rival candidate for 
the Plains school. 

Brother Palmer's kitchen was 
crowded in the evening. Mrs. Palmer 
found Brainerd a seat near the new 
stove which poured forth the welcome 
heat. Lois thought, as she saw his 
commanding figure, his broad fore- 
head and firmly set lips, " He is just 
like Patience Ann's pictures of her 
bridegroom." Just then her eyes fell 
beneath the look of admiration with 
which the flashing black eyes met her 

When the new hymn was given out 
Miss Persis went firmly through the 
first measures, and others were begin- 
ning to join, when one of the difficult 
passages was reached. Miss Persis' 
face flushed, her voice quavered about 
the desired note, then trembled, and 
stopped. There was quite a little 
flutter, and the Elder said, 

" This is quite a difficult tune. 
vShall we try it again?" 

The result was even more disap- 
pointing than that of the first trial 
had been. The Elder was sadly dis- 
turbed till Lishe whispered, "Lois 
can sing it." 

" Is any one present who can sing' 
it? Will our friend from Wilton, 
Miss Latham, try?" asked the Folder. 

Lois' heart quaked as she rose, but 
clear and sweet sounded the tones, 
and without a quaver each difficult 
note was sounded. Other voices 
joined, Brainerd's rare tenor among 
them, and the old kitchen was full of 
song. A rare smile illuminated the 
minister's face. At the close of the 



service he hastened to speak to I<ois. 
She turned to greet him and saw also 
his son, who detained her until she 
received her uncle's summons, and 
said as he attended her to the sleigh : 

"I hope we may rel}^ upon your 
help in our church choir, Miss La- 
tham. We shall reorganize it in the 
early summer." 

He called the next afternoon on his 
way to the coach, to say that his 
father wished him to notify Miss 
Latham of her election by the school 
board, and delayed for much plan- 
ning for the choir. 

With the arrival of the summer va- 
cation the choir was reorganized and 
rehearsals were frequent and enthu- 
siastic. Uncle Samuel said that if all 
the members had to be consulted as 
often as Lois did he did not see how 
Brainard got around to them all. 

No delicate rosebud, in the genial 
influence of summer sun and rain, 
develops into bloom and beauty more 
unconsciously than did Lois into the 
grace and loveliness of womanhood. 
Her success in the school-room also 
gave her new confidence in herself, 
and her whole nature thrilled with 
happiness when, at the end of the 
autumn term, she was able to send to 
her father a sum of money which pro- 
pitiated the mortgage holder, and en- 
abled her parents to spend thanks- 
giving day at brother Samuel's. All 
attended the service in the old church. 
Brainerd was at home, and the choir 
surpassed themselves. 

" Fine singing !" said Job Taylor, 
who called in the evening. " Lois 
sings a first-rate treble, and Brainerd's 
tenor is the best anywhere about. He 
does seem to take an uncommon in- 
terest in the church singing, real 
heart interest, I think, though Brain- 

erd never seems to take any stand for 
the Lord anywhere else. If Brainerd 
would only speak like John Twombly, 

"Brainerd does not say one thing 
and practice another," said Lois, 

" No, he's no hypocrite. That was 
a powerful sermon, though, that the 
Elder preached last Sunday ; ' Be not 
unequally yoked together with unbe- 
lievers.' What did you think of it, 

"I don't know what call Lois has 
to think of it," said her aunt. " I 
hope Lois don't set herself up to be 
better than Brainerd Strong," she 
added, as Lois stole from the room. 

Brainerd taught the winter school 
at the village, and his interest in mu- 
sic by no means abated. When April 
came, the Fast day anthem was re- 
garded as something unheard before 
in the old church. Brainerd detained 
Lois and spoke of leaving for college 
on the following day. in tones of ten- 
der regret for their separation. "I 
shall come for you this evening," 
were his words at parting, in a tone 
that thrilled Lois' heart, for with the 
intensity of her nature she loved him, 
and often shuddered at her guilt that 
she shrunk from the thought of 
heaven with him outside. 

They were silent on the homeward 
evening drive until Brainerd turned 
the horse towards the Plains road, 
white with sand over which stiff 
limbed pines cast their angular shad- 
ows. All her life Lois remembered 
the dark pines, unrelenting as fate. 
She trembled as Brainerd turned 
towards her and said in a low, tender 
voice, " Lois, dear Lois, I have loved 
you so long, so truly. Tell me, dar- 
ling, that you, too, love me." 

G.M.— 24 



His arm drew her very close to his 
side, and her truthful eyes were raised 
to his as she said, 

" Brainerd, I love you with all my 
heart ; oh, too well, I fear." 

" And you will be mine, Lois, my 
own, my wife ?" 

There w^as a choking sob, then 
Brainerd heard, " Oh, I cannot deny 
my Saviour if I die." 

His arm tightened its grasp and his 
hand clasped hers with a grip of pos- 

" And what of me, Lois, of my grief 
and spoiled life ?" 

" Brainerd, why cannot we love 
Him, together, and each other?" 

He was silent, his hand dropped 
hers and clutched the reins. He sat, 
tall and cold, at the farthest limit of 
the seat. As they reached the drive 
to the old house, he said : 

" If anything could make it impos- 
sible for me to love your Saviour, it 
is that he bids you scorn a man's 
supreme offering with no thought of 
him but only of cold duty." 

With an icy " good night," he was 
gone. Then all the stings that a sen- 
sitive conscience and a loving heart 
could know were Lois' companions. 
He would think her self-sufficient, 
would be angry ; he would love some 
one else, sometime. How should she 
bear it all the years that were to 
come ! At dawn she was at her work. 
Perhaps Brainerd would stop on his 
way to the coach. But he passed 
without even a look of recognition. 

" Brainerd seems to be in a great 
hurry," said her aunt, sharply. 

Through the weary weeks that fol- 
lowed her aunt's sarcasm was hard to 
endure, and Lois grew pale and thin, 
but kept her cheerful smile even when 
July brought its withering heat. 

Mrs. Palmer called one afternoon and 
left Mrs. Spinney in great excitement,, 
and she met Lois at the door on her 
return from school. 

" Patience Ann is coming home to 
be married," she said in a tone of 
triumph. " Brainerd Strong is not 
long in finding those who think him 
good enough for them." 

" She did not say it was Brainerd^ 
Eunice," said her husband. 

" She said he was college-learned 
and a parson's son. Who did she 
mean but Brainerd?" 

Lois seemed as if paralyzed and with 
difficulty crept up the stairway. Sat- 
urday night brought both Brainerd 
and Patience Ann. On Sunday, the 
latter, radiant with happiness, ap- 
peared in Brierton church. At the 
close of the service Brainerd attended 
her to the carry-all and was heard to 
say, " I shall come over immediately 
after dinner, to-morrow." He lifted 
his hat with stately dignity to Lois as 
Deacon Spinney's wagon passed him. 
Mrs. Spinney cast a withering look at 
her niece. 

The next day, as Lois sat alone at 
the noon hour, who should enter the 
school-room but Patience Ann. Af- 
ter the first greeting, she said : 

"I want your advice, Lois, about 
my wedding dress. For it must be 
ready by August thirtieth." 

With a strong effort Lois compelled 
herself to talk with seeming interest 
of the different samples and patterns 
that were spread out before her, and 
to offer, now and then, a suggestion. 
Suddenly, Patience Ann said : 

" What will you wear, Lois? for, 
of course, you are to be my brides- 

Lois' face became pale as ashes, and 
she found it impossible to speak. In- 



tent upon her muslins, Patience Ann 
continued : 

"We have always said so, and I 
shall not let any nonsense between 
you and Brainerd prevent. He said 
you were too good to stand in line 
with him." 

Here Lois' control gave way en- 
tirely. Tears and sobs were the only 
reply to her friend's questions. The 
clock struck the school hour, and, 
gathering up her treasures, with a 
parting " remember," she was gone. 
The afternoon wore out its wretched, 
weary length ; then Lois started 
homeward, wishing only to kneel in 
her small, bare room and dwell upon 
her sorrow. But no time for self- 
indulgence, even in grief, awaited 
her. Aunt Eunice had fallen and 
sprained both foot and shoulder. Lois 
braced herself to bear the double 
burden of work to which was added 
the outflow of her aunt's perturbed 
spirit and her own nights of agoniz- 
ing heartache. She met Brainerd 
one day on her way to school, and 
his cold, stern look so pierced her 
heart that she had even prayed to die. 

One afternoon Brainerd drove over 
the Plains road. Loosening the reins 
he leaned back in the seat, his face 
pale and drawn, and his brows firmly 
knit. Lost in thought, he took no 
notice of the rapidly gathering clouds 
until he was roused by old Jenny, 
who stopped to meditate, also. Glanc- 
ing around, he saw a black cloud from 
which raindrops were beginning to 
fall. He hurried his horse to its ut- 
most speed, and after passing a long 
distance, turned a corner and saw, 
near the top of a long hill, Lois' slight 
figure. She carried her white sun- 
bonnet in her hand, and the wind 
blew her light hair about her. She 

seemed quite exhavisted with weari- 
ness and terror. Turning to scan the 
black and brazen sky^^she saw the 
familiar chaise and seemed to look for 
a place of retreat, then hurried on. 
Just as she was ready to drop the 
chaise reached her and, leaping to the 
ground, Brainerd lifted her to the 
seat. Faint with terror and confu- 
sion she sank into a corner of the 
carriage as he fastened the boot. 

" Are you faint, are you ill, Lois ?" 
asked he anxiously, but received only 
a shake of the head for repl3^ Her 
heart thrilled with joy at the sound of 
his kind tones, onl}^ to quiver with 
pain at the thought, " Of course he 
would not pass me in this storm, and 
he knows that Patience Ann wishes 
us to be friends." 

Soon there w^as a blinding flash, 
and at the same moment a tall tree, 
uprooted, fell to the ground across 
the way. Old Jenny ran backwards 
in terror, stopping at length by a 
fence post. Other blinding flashes 
followed with crashing thunder peals, 
and the long intervals were filled with 
the low rumbling of thunder. When, 
at last, the wind came like a seeming 
hurricane, the parts of the wind- 
broken cloud scattered, and the sun 
shone upon two faces brighter than 
the fairest skj'. 

"Lois, you belong to me," whis- 
pered Brainerd, with a smile that 
illuminated his fine face. 

She did not dispute him. Drawing 
her very near himself he said : 

" Lois, in that terrible moment I 
knew that I loved not only 5'ou but 
ray Saviour." 

"Brainerd, I was sure God had 
given us to each other though it 
might be in death." 

All else was forgotten in the joy of 


reconciliation and love till old Jenny gust morning in the flower-bedecked 

again became restive and compelled parlor while she was made the wife 

Brainerd to ^nd a way home. He of Edward Stapleton, 
removed the bar rails and led the Two years later, in the old church, 

horse through the pasture to an open- as the Elder wished, Brainerd and 

ing beyond the fallen tree, and Jenny Eois spoke their nuptial vows. As 

soon brought them in sight of the the group of friends, among whom, 

farmhouse. with beaming face, stood Aunt Eu- 

As they approached Eois suddenly nice, watched the bridal party dis- 

exclaimed, appear. Job Taylor said : 

" But, Brainerd, what of Patience " Wonderful to think of, how thun- 

Ann ?" der and lightning and sickness worked 

' ' Patience Ann ?" like the Lord's servants to bring those 

" Yes, who is she to marry ?" two together. That was a wonderful 

"Marry? Why, Ned Stapleton, recovery of yours. Mis' Spinne3^ 

my college chum." Never limped after that thunder 

Patience Ann had her wish, and shower, and as well as ever, and we 

Brainerd and Lois stood one fair Au- all thought you were in a decline." 


By C. Jennie Swaiiie. 

From the woods the sunset glow^ has fled. 

And the winds are wailing a dirge for the dead. 

Over the dust of the faded roses 

They whisper secrets which death discloses. 

" Lover of violets," the south wind sighed, 

" I wooed the wood-blooms that in springtime died, 

" I woke the rose with my passionate kiss, 

And it blushed into beauty, O June days of bliss. 

" I pressed to my bosom the lily-bells white 

And they smiled into blooming for sheer delight." 

" O love and the roses ! " the west winds sigh, 
" Only one summer to bloom in and die ! 

" Only one June in the heart of the year ! 
Only one dream and its rose-chaplet dear ! " 

But the dirge with this sweeter measure closes : 
" Ever and always the Junes bring roses. 

" Always and ever the dreams are ours, 

While love lives on in the sweetness of flowers." 


By IV. P. Elk ins. 

^N the fall of 1872 I was at 
work upon a farm not far 
from the Green Moun- 
tains, in Vermont. After 
tlie crops of the home- 
stead were secured, there remained 
some potatoes to be dug on a moun- 
tain farm twelve miles distant. I 
was selected for this job, while my 
uncle, who owned both farms, re- 
mained at home to make the cider 
and do the annual amount of " break- 
ing up." 

It was a cold day in early Novem- 
ber when I set out on my mission, 
with only a steady old horse for com- 
pany. I have said that my destina- 
tion was twelve miles from my uncle's 
home ; it was, moreover, six miles 
from the neighboring village and four 
miles from the nearest inhabitant of 
that hilly country. The potatoes 
grew where there formerly were the 
cultivated fields of an old-time farmer, 
but the sons of that old settler had 
found cultivating the paternal acres 
unsatisfactory after the opening up of 
the West, had sold the farm for a 
song, and migrated to Minnesota. 
For years the place had been unoccu- 
pied, the fields had mostly been over- 
grown with bushes, and the build- 
ings had been left to decay. Never- 
theless, the old house had been re- 
cently made rain-proof, and one field 
had been cleared of bushes and made 
to yield something like an old-time 
crop. It was in that field that I was 

to work, while I was to spend the 
nights, for a week at least, in the 
deserted house ; surely not a pleasant 
prospect for a nervous man. 

However, the novelty of the under- 
taking charmed me, and as I jogged 
along the road that morning, under 
the exhilarating influence of the cold, 
mountain air, I felt as gay as if on 
the way to a husking-bee. Arrived 
at the deserted farm, I at once began 
operations ; digging the potatoes and 
hauling them to the ruins of a barn, 
where they were temporarily stored 
in bins. The afternoon passed pleas- 
antly, and, as it began to grow dark, 
I made the old horse comfortable in 
a stall newly made in one corner of 
the ruined barn, and proceeded to 
the house, where a stove had been 
set up for use during the time of 
work on the mountain farm. I en- 
joyed a good supper as only he who 
has dug potatoes in cold weather can 
enjoy one, drew an old but comfort- 
able lounge near the fire, and pre- 
pared to pass the evening in the 
pleasantest manner possible under 
the circumstances. I began to read 
a version of one of Eugene Sue's 
novels. Although the room, in view 
of such temporary occupation, was 
furnished quite cosily, there was no 
clock in it; the only sounds were 
those of mice, either gnawing within • 
the partition walls or running over 
the chamber floor. 

The unusual stillness, with the 



strange feeling which comes from 
being alone in a deserted house, be- 
gan to make me uneasy, and finding 
I could not read, I lit my pipe and 
went out of doors. It was one of 
those still nights in which no leaf is 
stirring, though dry and light they 
are scattered over the ground, and in 
which one seems to hear faint sounds 
from the sky. The crescent was low 
in the west. The creek that wanders 
slowly across the meadows below 
shone like silver under the rays of 
the moon, and the western horizon 
seemed more remote than ever before. 
I could distinctly hear the water 
falling over the dam at Northrop 
pond, five miles away. Save that and 
the barking of a fox there was no 

Refreshed by the cold air and 
quieted b}' my pipe, I again sought 
the comfortable lounge b)^ the fire, 
and resumed my reading. It was 
not long, however, before I fell asleep. 
I awoke after several hours, feeling 
strangely, as if under the spell of a 
mysterious presence. My lamp had 
burned low and gone out, the rats 
and mice were quiet, all was dark 
and silent except for the feeble light 
of the dying embers in the stove and 
a mysterious sound, which I soon 
concluded was made by the wind. 
Yet why was the sound confined to 
one corner of the room, instead of 
issuing from the many cracks in the 
old building, and why wasn't the 
wind made evident by the moaning 
of the trees near by, or by the other 
noises which it usually produces? 

I fancied I could hear an occa- 
sional sound as of swaying branches, 
but it was too faint to be clearly 
recognized. Evidently there was 
only a slight breeze without, yet the 

mysterious sound from the corner 
was as distinct as the whistling of a 
gale through a keyhole. I opened 
the door and listened ; only a slight 
breeze was blowing, scarcely enough 
to sway the sthallest twigs. Perhaps 
the peculiarity and distinctness of this 
noise were owing to the size and shape 
of a particular crack in the corner. 
Anyhow I was too much charmed by 
the plaintiveness of the notes to in- 
vestigate farther, but, lying down, 
gave myself up to the reveries and 
emotions which the whistling of the 
wind is so apt to inspire. 

Such a sound always makes me 
sad, but with a sadness mingled with 
delight. In this case the effect was 
heightened by the surroundings and 
by the apparent mystery before me. 
The strange wind whistled and 
moaned, oh, so weirdly, and my 
thoughts flew back to childhood, the 
happy home and state, where all was 
freedom and bliss. I saw the sunny 
yard in front of my father's house, 
I heard the merry sounds of laughter 
and the voices of the dear ones I had 
lost. I saw, with the old delight, 
the wild flowers blooming in my 
grandfather's meadow, the first straw- 
berries nestling beneath the grass, 
the pretty birds scolding the threaten- 
ers of their nests. I looked with the 
old delightful wonder at the hills, 
which seemed to bound the world, 
and listened to the tales of those who 
had visited the mysterious beyond. 
I admired again the strength and 
prowess of my uncles, visited my 
dear old grandmother and received 
her gifts of sugar-plums and fruit, 
and looked confidingly into the ten- 
der face of my mother. And then I 
looked beyond, at the ever smiling 
sky, and read there the eternal mes- 



sage of beauty, mystery, and love. 
What does it all mean? I asked. 
But why such questionings ? I am 
strong and happy, and one thing is 
certain: Whatever maybe the mys- 
tery of life, it is mystery and it is 

I had reached this point in my 
half conscious reveries when the wind 
sound ceased and I became aware of 
a strange presence in the room. I 
sprang up and looked. In the dark- 
ness of the corner was the awful, 
indescribable, formless figure of a 
ghost ! Its shadowy, whitish form 
served only to point a resemblance 
to a man in the flesh, while it shed a 
strange, dull light close around it, — 
a light very different from the warm 
glow of the few embers left in my big 
stove. I stood perfectly still, power- 
less to move, but very much fright- 
ened, and vainly hoping that the 
spectre would not see me. But the 
dreadful creature had long been 
aware of my presence in his house, 
and evidently had come into the seen 
world on purpose to pay me a visit. 
I stood still ; the apparition moved 
perceptibly toward me and lifted 
something that I took to be his spec- 
tral hand. In obedience to that im- 
petuous movement I fell into my big 
chair b}^ the fire, and there I sat, 
unable to remove my gaze from the 
•dread visitor for a moment, but sat 

trembling, horribly afraid, in unique 
agony, yet with senses all acute. 
The spectre spoke, or tried to ! 

Such a strange, unearthly, unphysi- 
cal sound ! It seemed to come from 
some mysterious depth in his form- 
less being, and I could only respond 
by involuntary thrills of horror. He 
seemed to realize that I did not un- 
derstand, for he struggled and tried 
repeatedly to articulate his meaning. 
I knew by an instinctive appreciation 
of his struggles that he, too, was in 
agony, and desperatelj^ resolved to 
deliver his message. 

At length, by a final effort, shak- 
ing his shadowy substance to its 
centre, the words were shaped, and, 
though with difficulty, I understood : 

" My prison ; my prison ! " 

Then he vanished. 

* * * * 

I remained, transfixed with fear, 
till the dawn came to my relief. 
Then I did a poor day's work, but 
before night came drove home to tell 
my uncle's family of my experience. 
Of course all laughed at me, but I 
vowed that I would never pass another 
night alone in the haunted house. 
So the next day some of my cousins 
went up to Fanard Hill with me, and 
remained till the potatoes were all dug. 
We spent the night in the same room 
where I was visited by the ghost, but 
we saw nothing of him. 


By Mrs. Sarah L. Nn/e. 

I stood on the platform awaiting the coming 

Of the train from the East. There'd been some delay. 

The gates had been lowered ; I now heard the humming 
Of the swift flying engine as it dashed o'er the way. 

One glance in the cab as I heard the bell ringing 

Showed the men at their post ; calm and steady were they, 

With thoughts now intent on their work that was bringing 
Many hearts to their homes at the close of the day. 

I was soon in the car, and had time for reflection 
When once I got seated for my trip on the train. 

My mind was now centered in the foremost direction. 
And from writing my thoughts I could not refrain. 

All around me looked happy ; the day was delightful. 

But none of the charms seemed me to entrance. 
For the men in the cab, who were working so faithful, 

As the minutes flew by us my thoughts did enhance. 

How few ever think, when they are riding for pleasure, 

From memory's casket to just drop a pearl 
For the men in the cab ! It might be a treasure 

To lighten their hearts as onward they whirl. 

The calm engineer touches lightly the throttle, 

And faces the perils by night or by day. 
Was there ever a soldier yet braver in battle 

Than he and his fireman when destruction has sway ? 

He has climbed up the hill, and is now at the summit 

Which through years of hard labor he has hoped to attain. 

Now his comrade is thinking by his work he shall profit, 
And some day fill the place which he's striving to gain. 

Many hardships and toil, together with danger. 
The brave, noble firemen all have to endure. 

To light storms or tempests they are not any stranger 
For their place in the cab is never secure. 

When the hours have been long, and they're tired and weary, 
Come thoughts of the wife and the children at home ; 

Or may be of a mother who tries to make cheery 
A place, warm and cozy, for her dear one to come. 

May our good Heavenly Father, who always is ready 
To go with His children wherever they roam. 

Gently guide them through trials with a hand that is steady. 
And bring them all safely to their dear ones at home ! 


Hon. E. B. S. Sanborn, a prominent attorney and long time member of the 
State Railroad Commission, died at his home in Franklin, after a protracted ill- 
ness, November 3, 1903. 

Mr. Sanborn was a native of the town of Canterbury, born August 11, 1833. 
He graduated at Dartmouth college in the class of 1855, studied law with the late 
Judge Nesmith of Franklin, and was admitted to the bar in 1857, and had been 
actively and continuously in practice up to the time of his last illness, attaining 
high distinction and success. He served seven times in the state legislature as 
a representative from Franklin, the last time in 1891, and was conspicuous in de- 
bate and committee work. He was appointed a railroad commissioner in 1883 
and served till 1888. In 1893 he was again appointed holding a place upon the 
board, by successive reappointments, till the time of his death. 

He was originally a Republican in politics but acted with the Democratic party 
for about twenty years previous to 1896. He was active in educational work, 
was for a short time one of the trustees of the State Normal school, and for many 
years a member of the Franklin board of education. He had been twice mar- 
ried, leaving a widow with a son and daughter, and one daughter by the first wife. 


Maj. Stephen R. Swett, a veteran of the War of the Rebellion, and a promi- 
nent citizen of Canaan, died in that town November 23. He was a native of Salis- 
bury, born June 18, 181 9, being a descendant of patriotic stock, his grandfather 
serving in the Revolution and his father in the War of r8i2. 

Major Swett raised the first company of cavalry in this state for service against 
the rebellion. This company, with others, was taken to Rhode Island, where they 
joined forces with companies of that state. In 1862 he was made a major, and in 
1864, owing to wounds received at the battle of Kelley's ford, he received his dis- 

Since the war Major Swett had resided in Canaan, and in the course of a long 
and useful career was deputy sheriff for a term of ten years, superintendent of 
schools eight years, overseer of the poor, and in 1885 he represented the town in 
the state legislature. 


Dr. Albert Nott, a prominent physician of West Newton, Mass., died at his 
home in that place, October 17, 1903. 

Dr. Nott was a native of the town of Claremont in this state, born in 1843. 


He was educated in the public schools of his native town and at the University of 
Vermont, where he received his degree of M. D., and soon after, in 1874, settled 
in the practice of medicine in West Newton. He gained eminence as a practi- 
tioner, and was atonetime dean of the Boston college of physicians and surgeons, 
and later occupied the same office at the Tufts college medical school. He was a 
prominent Mason, a member of the local lodge I. O. O. F., and a member of the 
Second Congregational church. A widow survives him, • 


William A. Emerson, a v\ ell-known citizen of Hampstead, died November 19. 
He was born in Hampstead, September 7, 1842, and was the youngest son of Dan- 
iel and Ruth Conner Emerson. His education was obtained in the public schools 
of the town. He married Abbie H. Dorr of Hampstead, daughter of Francis B. 

In 1874 Mr. Emerson began the business of carrying shoes to Haverhill, which 
he followed for fifteen years. Seventeen years ago he, with his brother, Daniel, 
began the manufacture of shoes in Hampstead, in which enterprise he met with 
marked success. 

Mr. Emerson represented his native town in the last legislature, and served on 
the committee on education. He was a member of the Congregational church, St. 
Mark's lodge, A. F. an'd A. M., and Bell chapter of Derry, and DeWitt. Clinton 
commandery of Portsmouth. 

Besides a widow, Mr. Emerson leaves four sons, Daniel, Frank W., Arthur M., 
and Myron E. Emerson, and three brothers, Daniel H. and James H. of Hamp- 
stead, and Horatio B. of Maiden, Mass. 


Joseph W. Lang, born in Tuftonborough, December 2, 1832, died at Meredith, 
October 22, 1903. 

He was the son of Thomas E. and Cynthia Blaisdell Lang. He engaged in 
trade at Meredith Village in early life, and when the War of the Rebellion broke 
out was the partner of Isaiah Winch, and when permission was given to raise a 
regiment in Belknap county Captain Lang at once set about raising a company 
and, turning their store into a recruiting station, enlisted eighty-six men of what 
was afterwards known as Company I of the Twelfth Regiment of New Hampshire 
Volunteers. Being as popular as he was in earnest, he was unanimously chosen its 
commander. He was the first man to enlist in Company I, August 14, 1862, and 
enlisted twenty-five in the afternoon of the same day. He was in the battles of 
Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, and the skirmishes in front of Petersburg. At 
Chancellorsville he was wounded severely in the leg and taken prisoner, being held 
fourteen days. The wound in his leg prevented him from marching into Rich- 
mond with his regiment. He was discharged on account of wounds August 19, 
1864, having been in active service two years and five days. Since the war he has 
been engaged in farming in Meredith. 

Captain Lang has been prominent in public life in Meredith, and was a leading 
Democrat in his town and county. He served twice as a member of the legisla- 
ture from Meredith, the last time in 1899. He was active in Masonry, and was 
also a member of the Knights of Pythias, Red Men, the Grange, and G. A. R. 

January 19, i860, he married Lucy A. Leach of Wells, Me., who survives him, 
with one daughter. 


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